


The Chances We Are Offered

by jessie_5_c



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy Blake is a History & Mythology Nerd, Bellamy/Murphy - Freeform, Class Differences, Cooking, Dyslexia, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murphamy - Freeform, Protective Bellamy Blake, Sad John Murphy (The 100), Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessie_5_c/pseuds/jessie_5_c
Summary: Bellamy and Murphy met for the first time on a construction site. Murphy is an unqualified help, Bellamy is the boss step-son. They are from completely different worlds. Bellamy has it all, a business degree, a sweet car, money and a good family, that loves him. Murphy struggles to pay bills and avoids his drunk mother whenever he can. They really have nothing in common. Yet their worlds collide, at the latest when they meet again, suprisingly, at a party in the part of town where people like Murphy live. Together they learn. About food and history. And about the difference between chances and charity.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Jake Griffin, Aurora Blake/Marcus Kane, Bellamy Blake/John Murphy, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Emori/Raven Reyes, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on completely new territory here. Usually I write Memori. I love to write from Murphys Point of View, but if you read any of my other fics, especially Life after the Massacre, you might realize that this Murphy is a compleatly different guy. That was and is truly interesting for me as a writer. Murphy in LATM is a dad, he has his scars but he also is right where ne needs to be from the very beginning. This Murphy here will be different and he has a long way to go, just like Bellamy, even if in a completely different way. So come along on their journey in a world that hasn’t been destroyed. 
> 
> I sure they will grow with the challenge. Just like me.

_Sometimes when you meet someone,_  
_there’s a click._  
_I don’t believe in love at first sight_  
_but I believe in that click._  
_Recognition._

  
_-Ann Aguirre_

He knew they were calling him Guardsman Blake behind his back. He was not part of the guys. Bellamy felt more like an intern than a project manager, having no clue about dry walls, framing and foundation, let alone any knowledge about structural engineering or construction laws and regulations. But if Marcus thought this would be a great start of his involvement in the family business, he‘d of course be doing it, no matter how inexperienced he was.

Fresh out of university, his business degree in his pocket, Bellamy was highly motivated to make Marcus proud. After the initial phase of being suspicious of the rich new guy mom started dating, when he had been sixteen, he always tried to be the son Marcus apparently wanted. It was not that hard. Right from the start he had been a great guy. He took his mom out to dinner to those sweet little places she liked. He brought her home in that awesome black porsche, that he later got rid of, because it was not a family car.

Bellamy would have been more than okay if Marcus had only treaten his mother right and left him and Octavia alone. She was his little sister, his responsibility. And Mom deserved to be finally treated well by a man she loved. All his childhood she had been working hard to get them by. Double-shifts in hot fabrics, long hours working hunched over to seam clothes for rich assholes, nights tending in seady bars. She‘d done everything to ensure her children had a warm home and bellies full of food.

When Marcus stepped into her life Bellamy had no expectations apart from how his mother should be treaten. His money had nothing to do with them. They weren‘t his responsibility. But Marcus proved him wrong. He went a bit overboard at first, true. Taking them to Disney World was not even an expectation Octavia had. And of course she had some, when she met Marcus back then. She was ten and Marcus treated her like a princess right from the start. But he could have taken them to the local carnival and they‘d been just as happy.

True, over the years they got used to each other. Marcus understood that often times his attention was more needed than his money, but the Blake siblings also got used to being well off. Octavia loved to travel, she loved to go shopping, to be able to go to concerts and drive a sweet car now that she was seventeen.

Bellamy was thankful Marcus paid his tution in full, housing and an allowance, that was way higher than appropriate. He was even more thankful he didn‘t have to worry about his mom and Octavia. They were still his responsibility - one of his mothers earliest lessons that would forever be stuck in his head and engraved in his heart - but Marcus took a lot of stress of his shoulders, ensuring Bellamy had a good education and a great time at college, without worrying about his family getting by.

This here, even if he felt totally in over his head, was the least he could do to show how thankful he was. Marcus promised him, they‘d find a lot of places within Kane Enterprize, where Bellamy woulf feel more than comfortable, but right now he needed him overseeing this project. Bellamy looked out of the window of the construction trailer. This project was huge.

Bellamy couldn‘t wait to get more inside of the financials, the marketing plan and real estate business. He couldn‘t truly comprehend that this was part of the family business he might one day inherit. Kane had been stupid rich when he met his mom but over the years business ran unbelievebally good and when Marcus old friend Theolonius, the CEO of one of the largest companies in the market of luxus housing approched him with this project a couple of months ago it had been a done deal. 

Bellamy turned to the door when he heard loud knocking. One of the construction workers stuck his head through the half-opened door. It was one of the younger guys they hired as helpers last month, when meeting the deadlines became tight. Most of them were some kids, nephews or whatever of their regular staff. 

"Boss," he said, fiddeling with his dirty hands and the hard hat that he held in them. „You got the first aid case?“

Instead of telling the guy that this was way beneath his payroll, he just raised his eyebrow and asked: „What happened?“

„One of the other guys ... uh ... he got hit by an, you know, metal pole or sumthing.“  
„What?“ Bellamy bellowed, three long steps until he was in front of the construction guy, motioning for him to get out of the way. „If someone gets hit by a metal pole you call an ambulance, not get bandaids.“

„It ain‘t hit his head, boss.“ He touched his own upper arm. „Just here. But it‘s bleeding lots.“  
„As I said, call an ambulance.“  
„Uh, boss. He doesn‘t want us too. So the guys told me to get the first aid case or sumthing.“

Bellamy shoke his head in disbelieve. He grabbed his own hard hat and safety west and stepped out of the trailer.   
„Where is he?“, he asked. 

„I‘ll show you!“ Bellamy followed the guy across the construction site to where another young construction worker sat on the ground, his right arm craddled in his other hand. One of the older guys crouched near him, pressing his own bundled up safety west against the kids upper arm. 

„Luke! I told you to get the first aid case, not the boss“, the crouching guy chasitied the younger one, before directing his gaze to Bellamy.   
„Mr. Blake. Sorry for disrupting you. We got it from here. Gonna be right back to work.“

„Show me“, Bellamy nodded to the wound. Crouching guy took away his bloodied safety west. Bellamy should really start and learn the who-is-who in this construction crew, but really there were over a hundred guys and he‘d only been here for roughly a month. Looks like it only took this long for the first crisis.

Bellamy crouched down next to both workers and examined the bleeding wound as if he knew what he was doing. From his new position he was able to see the wounded guys face. He looked truly young, to young to work here in fact. He had a prominent nose, high cheek bones and the bluest eyes Bellamy had ever seen. His face was tense with pain. 

„You need an abulance. Luke,“ well that was the only name he knew. „Call them now.“  
„Mr. Blake,“ the black guy next to him spoke up, just when the hurt kid started to shake his head. But he stayed silent, letting his collegue speak on his behalf. „It‘s really not necessary. We only need some butterfly tape and then we got it.“ 

„You can‘t tape that. Don‘t you see how much he is bleeding?“ Bellamy pulled off his own safety west, pressing it against the wound. The guy hissed in pain. It really was a lot of blood and this guy could easily sue them since it was a work accident. Wouldn‘t be the first time something like that happened. People sued for less damage. They really didn‘t need this.

Marcus would be so dissapointed, if they got sued within the first month of Bellamy being in charge around here. It might be dumb, because he knew that Bellamy had no experience or training for his position, but dissapointing Marcus was something Bellamy wanted to avoid at all costs. Marcus invested so much money in Bellamys degree and even if Bellamy was only in charge because Marcus was occupied with even more important branches of the family business he wanted to make him proud. Show his stepfather that investing in his future has not been a failure.

„What‘s your name?“ Bellamy asked the guy. He needed to know, for the protocol and well, the guys eyes were really blue. Not as if that was of any importance. Sure, Bellamy definitly played for the other team, but this was neither the time nor the place. And the kid was in pain.  
„Murphy,“ the guy answerd through gritted teeth, looking up to where Luke was just about to dial the ambulance.   
„Don‘t, man! You stupid?! I told you, no ambulance!“

„Mr. Blake, really. We got it,“ black guy was speaking up again, throwing keys at Luke. „Go to my car and bring the first aid case from there, will ya?“ 

Bellamy fished his Iphone out of his pants pocket, dialing 9-1-1 with one hand, the other still adding pressure to Murphys wound. That‘s why he didn‘t saw blue eyes grabbing at the phone with his uninjured hand.   
„No ambulance,“ he gritted out again. Bellamy was out of his wits here. He shouldn‘t be, as he was overseeing a multimillion dollar project right now. This was among the smallest of crisises that could occur. Still those people, this guy - Murphy - was his responsibility. 

„Why wouldn‘t you want an ambulance? You‘re hurting.“ Clearly.   
„Mr. Blake. He has no insurance. The bill is gonna be way more than what he earns in a week.“  
„Oh,“ Bellamy said unintelligently. He should have known that. He wasn‘t born rich, he knew how expensive insurance was.

If you struggled to get by, it was impossible to get health care. When Octavia broke her arm a couple of days after her ninth birthday his mom was paying back hospital bills for months. She even had to take on a new job on the weekend, selling hot dogs in the stadium. At least that was where she met Marcus. He had been checking on business there, overseeing if the security branch of Kane Enterprize was still as efficient and safe as it had always been.  
  
„The company‘s paying of course,“ Bellamy said. He didn‘t know if it was the usual procedure but he would almost promise this guy everything to only get him patched up. 

„Alright,“ the older guy said, motioning to the scafford and the building machines behind it. „I‘m gonna head back to ...“   
Bellamy nodded. He had it all under control here. Just a small crisis. Everything was going great. He just needed to call 9-1-1 now. 

„Can I have my phone back now, Murphy?“ Bellamy nodded to his open palm. Murphy looked confused, but then he twitched and hastingly gave the Iphone back.   
„Just wanted no doc,“ he mumbled, embarassement sickering through his pained voice. „Not stealing it.“  
„I didn‘t think you were, Murphy.“ Bellamy once again dialed 9-1-1, calmly explaining what happened, before putting the phone back into his pants pocket. The EMS should be there soon. 

„So what happened?“  
„Got hit by that pole,“ Murphy answered, motioning to the sharp edged pole next to him. It was around two centimetres in diameter, half a meter long, looked like some part of the stafford. The stafford that people were climbing on just now. He paled, blood ringing in his ears by the thought of what could happen under his watch. 

„Relax, Boss. It‘s part of the plumbing stuff. Still useable even. You know, after you wipe the blood of.“ The kid grinned despite the pain. Observant little shit, Bellamy thought. 

„How did it fell on you?“  
Murphys gazes shifted back and forth for a moment, as if looking for someone.   
„You wanna get ...“ Bellamy stopped, not knowing the name of the older guy who crouched by Murphys side. He seemed to care about the kid. And if he needed someone beside Bellamy to care about him, he‘d definitly organize it.  
„Nah, Mr. Mbege needs to finish over there.“

„Why? We‘re compleatly within the deadlines. It won‘t do any harm to get him, if you ...“  
„He has to be off early. It‘s Eid tonight.“  
„Oh,“ Bellamy made. Should he have known? They might have a few muslim guys. It‘s a holiday for them, so they should be able to spent it at home instead of on the site.   
„It‘s only their most important holiday,“ Murphy said with a bite in it. So he clearly agreed with Bellamys line of thought. 

„I know that,“ Bellamy said, trying to defend himself. It was not his fault the guys had to work. But he‘d mention it to Human Resources, next time he spoke to them. 

„Good for you,“ Murphy mused. Bellamy got his hostility. He was in pain, clearly, by the way Bellamys fingers turned red where the blood seeped through the safety west and by Murphys „Au,“ when Bellamy pressed harder to stop the blood flow.   
„It’s not christmas, right? So it doesn‘t matter“, he gritted out, sarcasm clearly seeping through. Huh, the kid got bite.  
„You done trying to fight with me to distract yourself from the pain?“ Bellamy asked. He gave as good as he got and if talking helped Murphy to ignore how much he was hurting Bellamy would gladly entertain him.

Murphy huffed, before he suddenly turned thoughtful. He rubbed at his nose, leaving a dirty speck at the tip. It was just a bit endearing. But ... he shouldn‘t think like that. At all.  
„Wasn‘t trying to. Sorry, Boss. Not the time and uh ... au ... place. I know.“ He winced once more. If Bellamy would‘ve met this guy in a bar, he‘d clearly offer him the time and place to discuss politics. He‘d offer him a lot more. But Murphy was his subordinate and he was really hurt. They just sat there waiting for the ambulance, not more, nothing less. He should definitly keep it at that. 

„So how are we doing this?“ Murphy asked, all of a sudden. He seemed to really try to distract himself from the pain by talking as much as possible. Strange guy. But sweet. Definitly sweet.  
„What do you mean?“  
„The bill. I don‘t have the money right now and you can‘t take it out of my first paycheck, because ...“

„As I said, the company will pay it“, Bellamy stopped the kids rambling. He‘d never inform HR to take costs like these from his guys paycheck. You never know, if people were struggling as it was. A couple of hundred dollars could clearly make the difference if people where able to pay utilities or food for their families.  
„I‘m a temp, Mr. Blake. I don‘t qualify for workman‘s comp.“

„Don‘t worry about it,“ Bellamy tried to calm him. They‘d still pay it and not bill it on to the kid, he‘d make sure of that. He should be able to, being the Marcus step-son and all. Being boss or at least the boss son should clearly count for something.

„I saw how that goes when my mom fell from a ladder at the 7-Eleven,“ Murphy offered. They‘d cut the cost from her paycheck, leaving them without food for the next week and making it impossible to pay the electric bill. It was freaking march then. Cold Showers had been a bitch.   
„The Company won‘t bill you, Murphy.“ 

„Okay.“ Murphy shrugged his shoulders, which send a sharp pain through his arm. He felt dizzie suddenly, even hoping by now the EMS would be there soon. He might have lost to much blood. Murphy only hoped they were able to fix him on the spot. He really couldn’t afford to go to the hospital.

Still Murphy was glad when he heard the shriking tone of ambulance siren approaching. Soon two paramedics were stepping out of the car, big red first aid bag in their hands. One of them took over applying pressure to his wound, raising his arm above heart level, while the other one was preparing stuff to dress it. After a while the one touching his arm took his hand away, accessing the wound. The bleeding almost stopped by now, but it still hurt and the rest of his arm felt sticky from the dried blood. 

„We are just gonna put some butterflies on the wound and dress it,“ the other one explained before getting to work. Murphy shot his boss an almost mocking glance.   
„Told you so,“ he muttered, thinking about apologizing instantly, because well he‘d like to still have a job tomorrow, but Bellamy only laughed. It was the nice kind of laugh, Murphy realized. Strange.  
„Seems like I should listen to you next time,“ his boss said with a little wink.

Murphy had thought Mr. Blake was a born rich asshole. He knew the guy was only in charge around here because he was the real boss son or some shit like this. But Murphy didn‘t care. He didn‘t partake in any of the crews gossip. But even he couldn‘t ignore it, so he listened quietly to all the shit talking the guys around here did.

Mr. Mbege stuck his neck out for him, so for once in his life Murphy had decided to really try not to be a little shit. He couldn‘t fuck it up for him and his family. Mr. Mbege needed this job as much as him, if not more, since he had to take care of his wife and two kids, a mortgage and everything. Murphy had only his fucked up mom and the rent for their equally fucked up house to think about. Not that much to lose. But you gotta do what you gotta do. 

„We need your adress for billing, Mr. Murphy,“ one of the paramedics told him, after they finished dressing his wound. It still hurt, but he‘d be good to go in no time. Before Murphy could answer, Mr. Blake stepped in again.   
„You can bill me. I mean the company, of course. Just let me give you my card.“  
„We need your companies insurance information then.“

„He‘s not covered. He‘s a temporal worker for now. Just bill the company.“  
The older paramedic huffed under his breath, writing down something on that paper he was filling out.   
„Your birthdate?“   
„June 29th, 2002“, he answered. The kid was still sixteen. He‘d be turning seventeen in less than a month, but well, this was fucked up.

Bellamy had been there. Sixteen, uninsured and his family poor enough for him to work over the summer. But working at the bookstore had sure been nicer than manual work around here. This here was hard work. Especially for a guy this young.   
„We need to see your minors work permit.“

Bellamy just hoped the kid had one. That would be a real crisis instead of what already happened today and he was not fit to solve those. He‘d rather not call Human Resource or, if shit really hit the fan, call Marcus. But fortunatly Murphy was unfolding a dirty slip of paper, before handing it over to the paramedic. They were glancing down at it, nodding and noting something on their own sheet. 

„I need both of you to sign here.“ Murphy started, clumsily because of his hurt arm. Bellamy couldn‘t deciffer a single letter. He signed below, giving the clipboard back to the paramedics. 

„Dizzieness, being cold or headpains are likely to occur because of the blood loss. Bed rest for today, better no manual work until Tuesday,“ the paramedic explained, sounding bored, as if he suspected they wouldn‘t listen either way.

Murphy closed his eyes for a moment, after the ambulance van had left the site. He already felt dizzy and his head hurt, but he had no good way to come home before Mr. Mbege was off. Murphy hated taking the bus. He had to change busses and the drive was almost two hours. Also, he really needed the money. So, Murphy pushed his body to move into a standing position, only stumbling slightly, before finding his footing. It was only than that he realized Mr. Blakes hand against his uninjured arm, steading him. 

„You dizzie already?“ he asked.   
„Stood to fast.“ Murphy grinned despite the pain in his head and right upper arm. „Gonna head back to work,“ he said, ignoring the pain and the stuffed feeling of his head. He motioned over his shoulder to were some guys were working the shovels in places the excavator couldn‘t reach. It was really tough work.

Murphy felt the exthausion in every once of his body. His shoulders hurt, his feet had blisters. Add this to the dizziness and the pain in his head and arm, he really wished to just crawl under the covers and not wake up until the weekend was over. But shit cost money and his mom was useless in fending for them. So Murphy had to suck it up and keep moving. That‘s how life was.

Murphy felt his bosses hand on his biceps tighten, as he turned to go back go digging.   
„The Paramedic said no manual labor.“

„In fact he said: bed rest, but I don‘t see a bed here,“ Murphy sassed, even if he knew he really shouldn‘t do that. As a Temp they could send him off with a days notice. If he could do no manual labor he was useless to them. Sassing the Boss‘s son sure didn‘t help him keep his job. 

„You‘re free to go today, of course,“ Bellamy said.  
„Of course.“ Murphy looked down, only now noticing that they were almost of the same height. Sitting on the ground he could‘ve sworn the man to be at least half a head taller. But his shoulders were only broader and he already looked like a man instead of a gangly teenage kid. He was a man, clearly.

„You okay to drive like this?“ Bellamy asked. „Or do live in walking distance?“  
„No and no. Don‘t have a car either way, boss. I‘m just gonna work until Mr. Mbege is off. I ride with him.“

„You can‘t work, Murphy.“ So Bellamy might not be that born rich asshole he had thought him to be, but he was definitly a goody two-shoes. Not less annoying.  
„That‘s an order, boss?“, Murphy asked, just to be sure.

Bellamy was pinching the root of his nose with two of his fingers. The guy was giving him a headache, while at the same time his sass was kinda endearing.   
„Yes, Murphy. It is,“ he said softly. The kid nodded, defeat in his eyes.  
„Am I allowed to stick to the site today? Just until Mr. Mbege is off?“ he asked, voice almost meek. Bellamy shrugged his shoulders.   
„Of course you are.“

„Thanks,“ Murphy mumbled. He wanted to leave, maybe go over to Mr. Mbege, but Mr. Blake was still holding onto his arm. Murphy raised his eyebrow and directed his gaze down to his left upper arm. 

„Could you ...?“ he asked, unsure why his Boss stil had a hold on him. Murphy really hoped the guy would just forget todays incident or even better Murphys face and his name over the weekend, so he was able to come back monday and work as usual.

He was really lucky about the job. They paid a bit over minimum wage even for him as a temporal worker and apart from Connor, Miles and his foreman Pike most of the guys were pretty okay. It certainly helped, that Mr. Mbege took him under his wing here. Most of the crew really did respect him. At least those, who weren‘t sucking up to Pike did.

„Sure,“ Bellamy said and loosened his grip, hand hovering stupidly in the air, as if he had to catch Murphy from doubling over. Murphy wouldn‘t. This was not the worse he had ever been. By far. 

„You should come to my office,“ Bellamy said. It was hot in the midday sun, still hours to go until the crew was off and Murphy looked pale. Inside Bellamy had air conditioning and Gatorade in the fridge. 

„Yeah, sure, Mr. Blake,“ Murphy said, trying to stay calm. When his Boss lead the way, Murphy followed him. Fuck, this was not good. He really hoped Mr. Blake would let it slide. Even the Paramedics said he would be good to go on Tuesday. That was only one and a half days he wasn‘t able to work. Kane Enterprize didn‘t even need to pay him for the sick leave, since he was only a temp. It sure would take longer to show the ropes to another guy than wait for him to be okay again. And it wasn‘t like Murphy hadn‘t offered to work regardles his wound and the dizziness. It wasn‘t his fault, Mr. Blake had to stick with the rules. 

Murphy concentrated on not losing his footing as he followed his boss across the construction site over to one of the office trailers. He was breathing hard and he felt the pulse in his right arm. Fuck, it really hurt. Murphy just hoped Mr. Blake was laying him off fast now and that he would still give him his check for the past three weeks, instead of deciding to add it up with the medical bill. 

„Sit down,“ Bellamy motioned to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, before opening the small fridge. He took two bottles of Gatorade and grabbed some Granola Bars from the bowl above it. 

„Blue or Red?“  
„What?“  
„Cool Blue or Fruit Punch, which flavor?“

Bellamy really didn‘t get why Murphy looked at him like he was dumb. He wasn‘t. Really not. His diploma on his bedroom wall at home was one proof, certainly. He liked to think his bookshelf full of history books and old literature was another one. Bellamy also liked to think that he had rather good social skills. He had never any qualms about meeting new people. His mom had made sure he knew how to hold conversation with all kinds of man and woman. Marcus trusted him with overseeing this project. If that wasn‘t proof enough, he didn‘t knew what could be. 

„Blue,“ Murphy finally decided and took the offered bottle. He opened the lid and drank a large gulp, while his boss sat down in the big black leather office chair that stood on the other side of the desk. Murphy was really thristy and he instantly felt better after drinking half the bottle of Gatorade. 

„Here, take this too.“ Bellamy put some Granola bars in front of Murphy. „Might be good against the dizziness. Get your blood sugar level up a bit.“  
Murphy only stared at the wrapped food. Pecan Crunchy, Roasted Almond Proteine, Pomegranate Fruit and Nut, Peanut Butter Chocolate Layered, holy fuck even those guys granola bars sounded fancy as hell.

Murphy took another sip of his the blue Gatorade. If he wasn‘t bummed about losing his job because of an stupid injury - which was not even his fault - he‘d find this situation rather funny. What employer tried to feed you - with overpriced all organic granola bars - before laying you off? Murphy had always been a little shit, he knew, and he was way too bad at holding his tongue, as his mom liked to remind him. Among other things. But she was right, and Murphy knew he‘d just shut up and munch the freaking granola bar. But instead he huffed and told his boss: „You know, that‘s not how you should sack people.“

„What?“ Mr. Blake made big eyes. He should look intimidating to a bumm like Murphy, with his slicked back dark hair and his expensive knitterfree dress shirt. But right now he looked approchable. Maybe Murphy could get out of being fired. He just didn‘t know how far he should go. Explain what really happened, argue, beg, flirt? What the fuck? As if he had a chance at flirting with this guy. Way out of his league, even if Mr. Blake were gay. And Murphy would rather not explain how he got hit by that pole. Nothing good ever came out of being a tattle tale. But he really wasn‘t that bad at making a case. 

„You don‘t feed people, before you fire them. They might want to stick around then. You know the saying: Hounds follow those who feed them.“ Yeah, that was totally making a case for himself. Murphy really needed to up his game, by Mr. Blakes buffled look. But then he laughed and leaned back in his big boss seat. It was a nice laugh, warm and totally not giving Murphy butterflies. He wasn‘t as stupid like that. 

„You‘re a strange guy, Murphy.“ Bellamy smiled over at him. „I like you. And I‘m not planning to fire you so eat the granola bar, will you?“

Murphy allowed himself to be suprised for a moment, before grabbing one random wrapped bar - because well he wasn‘t sacked and his boss even liked him. That was a first. Teachers never liked him. To be honest most adults didn‘t. Not even his mom, but that was a story for itself. 

The granola bar was good. The nuts really tasted like nuts. The ones that came with the free meals at school only ever tasted sweet and sticky, like cheap sugar. But even those would have been appreciated. Murphy hadn‘t eaten since yesterday. He liked what Mr. Mbege had told him about his religion - the sound of their prayer, the thing about aiding the poor. He really granted them the holiday, but each year they were celebrating the month of Ramadan, he had to get by with way less meals. His mom and him weren‘t good at stocking the fridge. They weren‘t good at lots of things. 

Murphy refrained from taking another one. His boss only wanted to get his sugar level going, not feed him. It was clever, if Murphy thought about it. Wouldn‘t look good to the guys old man - the real boss - if one of the employee passed out under his watch. 

„You better now?“  
„Yeah, thank you, Mr. Blake.“ Murphy took the last sip of his blue Gatorade before attempting to stand only to get interrupted by his boss again.   
„You can stay. It‘s air conditioned here.“

„I‘m sure you have to work,“ Murphy said, instantly wincing by how that sounded. As if he had any right to assume how much work the guy had to do. For all Murphy knew he could just chill on his fathers money or he could be the real force and brain behind this project, that Murphy was just digging holes and hauling material for. 

„Sure,“ Bellamy grinned. He looked boyish and hot, so Murphy shifted his gaze to the wall behind him. „But you could help me run things for today.“ 

X

That was how Murphy found himself shredding papers for Mr. Blake two hours later. He really had no clue what this shit was about and he didn‘t care either way as long as it was not his responsibility to decide which stack needed to be archived and which could be destroyed. Mr. Blake sure would know what he was ordering him to do or at the very last would have to face the consequences. Having one of the construction guys doing some stupid intern shit in the office was sure an one time gig, that Murphy was appreciating, as long as it meant he would still have a job come next week. Waiting for Mr. Mbege in here beat sitting in the heat outside by a long shot. 

„You could help me out again on Monday, Murphy.“  
„Sure thing, Boss,“ Murphy grinned. He had no illusion about getting paid for this shit but for now keeping the boss happy was not a bad thing. He really needed to pay some bills at home and fill up the fridge a bit. Mom was only bringing home unemployment checks for now. She was in a bad phase again. Not that her good phases were ever that pleasant either. 

„We‘ll find some work here for you, until you are ready to work outside again.“  
„Which will be on Tuesday morning. Doctors orders.“ Murphy answered, even though he knew the paramedics only said that because we was a temp and uninsured. They tried to balance his health and his need to keep this job, which Murphy gladly appreciated. He knew that the injury needed more time than a couple of days. Digging would be a bitch. Murphy just hoped he wouldn‘t reopen the wound. He really should learn to do his own stitches. Maybe Emori could show him. She‘d been doing Otans for years now. 

„We‘ll see if you‘re good enough again by then”, Mr. Blake mused, before shooing him off. „You can do the rest on monday. Get Mr. Mbege and go home, Murphy.“  
„Okay, cool.“ Murphy shoved the stack of papers to the wall, before shutting the shredder off. „See you on monday, boss.“  
„Have a nice weekend, Murphy.“

„You too,“ he mumbled and off he went to look for Mr. Mbege, who was just putting away the keys of the crane he was operating. Murphy thought it was pretty cool that his best friends dad was handling such a big machine. It was even cooler that Mr. Mbege stuck his head out for him and got him this job as an unqualified helper. He just hoped he wouldn‘t fuck it up.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> I hoped you liked the first chapter enough to continue this journey of slow burn Murphamy with me. 
> 
> Please leave a comment, it motivates me greatly and I love to hear what you think about this story. 
> 
> And now enjoy!

_ And let me offer  _

_ lesson number one about America:  _

_ All great change  _

_ begins at the dinner table. _

_ \- Ronald Reagan _

__

Murphy wasn‘t the only one to ride with Mr. Mbege. Two other guys, way older than him, sat in the back of the old beige Lincoln. One of them had his cap tipped to his nose and was snoring a couple of minutes into the drive. The other one was looking at his old smartphone, swiping left and right occassionaly. Tinder, Murphy thought with a huff. 

„You seem happy,“ Mr. Mbege called him out. „I was worried when I saw you following the boss.“

„Me too! But guess what, he only had me shredding papers and packing up some letters.“

Now Mr. Mbege huffed a laugh. Murphy had always liked his best friends dad, he seemed nice and he never complained when Mrs. Mbege feed him. They even let him, Emori and Otan chill with Mbege in his room. Nonetheless Murphy had been anxious to drive half an hour each day with Mbeges dad. 

He never liked adults digging into his business and it never took long until he said a dumb thing to anger them. But Mr. Mbege was cool and he was easy to talk too. Murphy still tried to behave - because that was what he owed them, but he usually was able to relax and joke with Mr. Mbege on the drive into their hood. 

„All it takes for you is bleeding onto the boss for you to get promoted“, he teased him. 

„As if,“ Murphy bellowed out a laugh. „But he had air conditioning, so I‘m not complaining.“

„Should do that more often,“ one of the guys from the backseat said. „Guardsman Blake wasn‘t running his rounds this afternoon.“

„He seems not that bad,“ Murphy said meekly. Really, the guy had been way more chill than he‘d thought. And he‘d seem to care, not only about his reputation or what the accident could mean for the company, but also about Murphy. He wasn‘t even so sure anymore about not gettin paid for whatever dumb work he did in the office. 

„Kane is an asshole too, but I‘d take him over that rookie“, Tinder-Guy spoke up once again. 

Murphy had only seen Mr. Kane around for a couple of times the past weeks that he‘d been working on the site. He knew that the guy was the real head over this project they were working on and that his company also did some other things. Security Business, Real Estate, Murphy even heard he had his own monthly business paper. 

Guy was definitly way richer than any person Murphy knew, but it was likely the guys made him out as someone more evil than he was. He seemed civil every time he‘d been on the site, talking to the foremans, and even if he hadn’t been, Murphy wouldn’t care much. Apart from some dickheads in the crew work conditions were good on the site. Better definitly than on that bag packing job, he‘d done before in the local grocery shop. 

Murphy had no expectation of his bosses. He was good, when they left him alone to do his work. Pike as his foreman was enough of an overseerer. Murphy was a good enough worker, when he wasn’t bullied or fucked up by being to mouthy to his superiours. Being on the radar of the boss, usually, wasn‘t good for him. Spending hours in the boss office surely wasn‘t. Yet Murphy felt good enough. Mr. Blake had been nothing but nice. 

„Asshole and Rookie are issuing the payslip that feeds your family, man.“ Mr. Mbege turned into their street and parked the car in front of his garage, putting an end to their useless discussion. Nobody would change the Bosses behaviour and the sure all needed the money more than the right to express their opinion on rich people, asshole or not. 

Murphy got out of Mr. Mbeges car, careful about the arm that was still hurting like a bitch. He should definitly check if mom had painmeds at home. 

The guys said their greeting, not fazed by Mr. Mbeges comment, before wandering off to their own homes a couple of houses over, when Mbege came out. The guy had a thing for hearing his dads car from miles away. Murphy grinned at Mbeges beloved PawPatrol pyjama pants. School had been over for a couple of hours and pyjama pants were just the right attire in Mbeges eyes. 

„You coming over tonight, hard hat?“ That was his new favorite nickname. Murphy huffed a small laugh, but he shoke his head. 

„It’s Eid, dumbass.“

„And we are inviting you. In fact we have invited you weeks ago.“ Murphy glanced over to Mr. Mbege. That was true, a couple of weeks ago, at dinner before the start of the month of Ramadan, Mbege had told him and Emori they should come, see for themself how awesome his moms food was that day. Best meal of the whole year. 

Mr. Mbege had just nodded, while his wife smiled across the table at them. Murphy hadn‘t forgotten about it, but to him that hadn‘t been an invitation, but merely an idea, that the family still needed to discuss. He hadn‘t heard a thing about coming again until now, so he‘d assumed, they decided to celebrate their most important holiday as a family or with people, who at least had the same beliefs as them. Not with the good-for-nothing neighbor boy and with some mexican girl, that compared Eid with Dia de los Muertos as if she was comfortable enough to ramble at their dinner table. That was just how Emori was, when she liked people. Arkward but charming. 

Murphy knew the family for a couple of years now, since the Mbeges brought that house next door. He still didn‘t felt comfortable to speak that much to Mbeges parents. They were adults after all and they got their shit together. What could he say that was of interest to them. Joking with Mbeges dad on the way to work was a whole different thing than holding a meaningful conversation at their dinner table. 

„It‘s a family thing, ‘Bege.“

„You‘re family, man. And Emori is coming too.“

„John, I‘m not calling you one more time!“ Murphy heard Mrs. Mbege from the kitchen. His best friend was shrugging his shoulders, motioning over his shoulder to the inside of the house. 

„Gotta peal potatos or mom is gonna explode. She‘s cooking the whole day already and stressing about grandma,“ Mbege explained before hurrying inside, loudly proclaiming to his mom that he was there to safe the day. Murphy once again grinned, raising a hand to Mr. Mbege, before turning to walk next door. 

Mbeges dad stopped him by the good shoulder, making Murphy twitch. He hadn’t seen the movement, as he was looking over to his house already. Murphy counted the missing roof tiles, to settle his nerves. He wasn‘t that used of good touch by adults. 

„Be there by nine“, Mr. Mbege told him. „We will celebrate with a dinner to break fast.“ 

„Thought you had to fast to, you know, break it.“ Humor had always been his go-to way to deal with situation like these. He shouldn‘t impose, but he‘d really like the food tonight and the company too, if he was honest. Living with his mom was kinda lonely.

„You fast more than you should, boy,“ Mr. Mbege fixed him with a hard look, before shifting his gaze to Murphys house. „Also, it‘s rude to decline an invitation to Eid.“

„Okay.“ Mr. Mbege clasped his shoulder once again, apparently happy with Murphys defeat, before making his way inside. Murphy heard him greet the family through the door and decided to make his way over to the ditch he was living with his mom. It really looked worse each day, especially in comparrison to the Mbeges home next door. Since theirs wasn‘t rented and they were way better people than his mom and him, they even kept their front yard tidy and green, covering the fact that all the houses on this street were cheap trash with thin walls. 

Murphy ignored the actual trash littering their frontyard and pressed against the door. They couldn‘t lock it these days, since mom somehow found a way to even fuck up the bolt last month. At least all people in the neighborhood knew that they were piss poor. Nobody got the stupid idea to rob them for cheap booze. 

Murphy toed of his workboots. They were hand me downs from Mr. Mbege and at least two numbers to large, so Murphy also shed the thick socks he was wearing in them. What a fortune he didn‘t had the tendency to sweat that much. He had been pretty sickly as a kid and until adolecense it was rather the cold that got to him. But his feet stunk nonetheless from being in those heavy boots the whole day. 

Murphy peeked into the living room. His mother was sprawled on the worndown sofa, heavily snoring, her blond hair disshelved. Next to her on the ground lay an empty bottle of vodca and her pack of cigarettes. Murphy sighed. She fell asleep once again with one between her fingers. Murphy contemplated snatching it from her, running danger of getting punched in the face or leaving her be in good hope that she won‘t do more harm than another burned hole on the carpet. 

His arm and head hurt bad enough, so Murphy decided to ignore his plastered mom trying to burn their shit hole of a house down. He tried to be quiet, walking on naked feet to the bathroom. He flushed the toilet, since his mom clearly forgot and shed his clothes. He let them fall to the floor. They were dirty and covered in specks of blood. He‘d go to the laundromat this weekend if he found some change around the house. 

Murphy stepped into the bathtub, trying not to touch the curtain that was more mold than plastic. He got the water running and sighed as his muscles slowly relaxed, careful not to get the bandage on his arm all too wet. At least they managed to pay utility bills last month so the water was warm. 

Murphy used the last of the shampoo Emori got him last month as a joke. She had great fun sniffing at his hair, telling him he smelt like a fresh field of flowers. She was sweet like that, even if she was the most badass girl he knew. If he weren’t gay he would definitly try his damnest to get a chance at dating her. As it was, he was glad to have her as one of his two best friends, beside Mbege of course. 

Murphy stepped out of the tub when he was finished showering. He grabbed his towel to dry himself. When he finished he wrapped it around his hips and rummaged in the cabinet for some pain pills. He only found an empty bottle and some out of date sleeping pills. When mom was drinking as heavily as she was again for the past few weeks, she didn‘t need them. 

Murphy grabbed his dirty clothes, ignoring the pills and the pain as much as he was able to and left the bath to get to his room. He tossed his workclothes and the towel in a black trash bag he used for laundry and put on boxers and a cleanish t-shirt. 

It was still early so Murphy slipped into his bed, rolled to his uninjured side and closed his eyes. He was tired but hungry, so he grabbed at his old mobile - a hand me down from Mbege - to set a timer to wake him up in two hours. He still felt like an intruder to a family holiday but he knew his fridge was empty. Also being home on a friday night was always a bad idea, if mom was as shit-faced in the afternoon as she was now. 

X

Even if he had lived away from home to attend university for the past couple of years, Bellamy was still used to these kinds of social gatherings. It was quite funny, since he still knew her from

before, but his mom felt so at home, hosting these cocktail parties in their giant backyard, that Bellamy sometimes forgot thatparties at a kid had been a lot different. Oftentimes, like today, she connected the socialising of her guest with a good cause. Coming together for parties, birthdays and barbeques had never been about socialising when he was a kid and their backyard was as small as the pantry in this house. They had been all about having a good time with friends and family. 

But his mom liked to do small fundraisers and she was motivating others to invest their time or money in something good. She started doing these kinds of things right from the start. People made fun of her for the first couple of times. Bellamy still remembered those early parties in the backyard of Marcus old house. He had heard people taunt behind his mothers back. Bellamy had been angry on her behalf. He was all grown up now but he still didn‘t felt sorry for the incident he caused back then. 

Bellamy, seventeen and idealistic - whatever the hell we want had been the credo of him and little wildhearted Octavia - couldn‘t stand by and let other people make fun of his mom and her good heart. So it might have been his foot the society bitch tripped over, before landing in the pool.

A few parties later, Bellamy was finally able to stop sabotaging those nasty ladies, when Marcus stated in front of the whole room what a great inspiration Aurora was for him. In retrospect it was still corny, but that was the day Bellamy accepted Marcus as part of the family. All the respect and admiration he held for the man, all the love to be honest, found their seeds in the moment Marcus lifted his mom up in front of all their priggish guests. 

Today the society ladies would likely sell their own kidneys to drink a martini and toss some charity money at his mom. Bellamy grinned behind the rim of his glass. He liked how comfortable she looked in her role and how much she believed in the good cause of the things she was raising money and awareness about. 

Bellamy made his way over to Clarke, when he spotted her. She stood with Lexa and Wells and smiled at him when he approched the group. 

„How are you doing, Bellamy?“ Wells asked. He was Thelonious son, just a year younger than Bellamy but still at college and thus not invested in their fathers joined project. 

„Great. Second week on the site and it‘s really interesting.“

„Dad told me, you‘re doing really well there.“

„I enjoyed talking to him earlier this week. If I don‘t see him today, give him my greeting.“ Thelonious was rarely at the site. Bellamy felt really humbled that Marcus and his business partner were trusting him that much. 

He knew both of them didn‘t have time and as strange as that might sound they had more important business than the overseeing of a housing project, regardless of how big it was. All the negotiations and the planning had been made beforehand or took place in the big business center across town. It was a good first position for Bellamy to learn about responsibility and to get a feel for the business world. 

„Enough of work, boys. Lexa and I are going to The Glasshouse tomorrow. Why don‘t you both accompy us?“ The Glasshouse was Clarkes and Lexas favorite place. Bellamy had been there often when he visited home over the breaks and on holidays. Since both of them were back, Clarke starting her residency at the local hospital and Lexa with her political degree in her pocket, the Glasshouse was their go-to place for the weekend. Every weekend. 

Bellamy was kinda sick of it and to be honest he couldn‘t really bear to spend all his fridays on a social gathering like today and all his saturdays with the pricks in the club. Clarke and Lexa were cool, they wereone of his closest friends and he even liked Wells and lots of other people at the Glasshouse well enough but he needed his other friends to balance it out. 

„I can‘t.“ Bellamy already had plans for tomorrow, so he didn‘t even need to find an excuse. 

„You have a date?“ Lexa was raising her eyebrows. Behind he composed almost royal attitude - she was the second cousin or something from some european royality - she was sassy. He liked her a lot, having met her through Clarke. After some on and off when they were still teenager, they‘d gone steady all through university. When they moved back home last month they moved in together, buying an appartment near the hospital. 

„I‘m going out with Echo and Raven.“

Bellamy was no stranger to the look Clarke and Wells shoot each other. Clarke had been Bellamys buddy at the private school Bellamy switched to after his mom, O and him moved into a new house with Marcus. His old public school had been too far away - almost an hour long busride - and he wanted to attend the same school as Octavia either way, to be able to keep an eye on her, protect her from the rich kids. Who would have known that it was rather him than his little sister who had been shit scared about his first day at the new school and the kids who have been born in money. 

Bellamy had felt so out of place on his first day, but Clarke - young and blond and sweet - adopted him instantly. She had been popular at school and it hadn‘t taken long for him to be too - captain of the soccer team, part of the debate team, prom King alongside Clarke in their Junior year, before they made public that they were everything but a couple, both batting for the other team. He really had it all. 

Bellamy was thankful Clarke had made him feel so welcome, she truly was the best friend he had made after his life turned around when his mom met Marcus. But she wasn‘t his only best friend. He had known Raven almost his whole life, growing up next to her. It had been her, that douche Finn and him for all of his childhood days. Echo had been the first - and the only - girl he ever had sex with. It had felt wrong, for both of them, so they rather became friends, her being included into the little group he aquired before becoming a rich asshole himself. 

Clarke and Wells were not fond of the leftovers of his old life, as they once called them out of spite, when Bellamy arrived to Clarkes eighteenth birthday party two hours late and high as a kite. All his plans of merging his two circles of friends would have been as futile as bringing water to the sea after that. Clarke felt better blaming Raven and Echo for Bellamys fuck up and he had been to much of a coward to convince her otherwise. 

„You haven‘t seen them for awhile, right? I thought you ...“

„I haven‘t cut ropes with them, Clarke. They are my friends.“

„Clarke knows that. And we accept that, don‘t we babe?“ Lexa shot her girlfriend a hard look. Bellamy was thankful for her diplomacy. He couldn‘t possibly choose between them. And thankfully he never had to. 

Sometimes it felt like he was walking on a thin rope between the two lifes he lived, but once he realised that he was the same Bellamy here and with Echo and Raven it felt alright. Bellamy felt at home between chapagner flutes, gin tonic and hors d'oeuvre but he was also right where he belonged when it was cheap beer and midnight ice cream. 

„If that is not the promising youth of Arkadia Bay,“ Abby Griffin said and walked up to them. „It‘s good to see you, Bellamy. How are you?“

„I‘m great, Abby. How are you and Jake?“

„We are doing good. It‘s a beautiful afternoon and Jake is truly happy your mom choosed his project for this fundraiser.“ 

Bellamy knew, even if he hadn‘t been home when shit hit the fan, that Jakes project hasn‘t met that much approval among the high society of Arkadia Bay. The Rich didn‘t like people messing with their plans. It had led to a fall out between Theolonius, Marcus and Jake, when the Ingenieur annouced to sue them for destroying the nature around town to build the biggest gated community this state had ever seen. 

But they had found a way to work together again, shortly after butting heads, resulting in the foundation Bellamys mom was fundraising for today. Room to live, room to breath. What a catchy phrase. 

„It‘s a good thing he‘s doing there,“ Bellamy said, even though he wasn‘t caring that much about it. Those issues had been solved before he started working for the City of Light Project. 

„Yes, he is,“ Abby said, but it sounded off. Bellamy was catching Clarke shooting an angry glance at her mom. 

„It is,“ she insisted with vehemence. 

„You know I support him, Clarke,“ Abby hissed, clearly not delighted by Clarke trying to cause a scene in public. 

„Weeks to late,“ Clarke hissed and took off, being followed by Lexa, after she shoot them an apology. Musn‘t be easy to pick up the pieces Clarke left behind when she was dedicated to something. Bellamy winced. He had been there, done that. He really wouldn‘t want to switch places with Lexa. 

„Yeah, that went well,“ Wells said and downed the last of his Gin Fizz, after Abby left to socialise with someone else. 

„You can say that, man.“ Bellamy lifted his empty glass and motioned to the bar. „Come on, I need another drink.“

X

Murphy meet Emori at five minutes before nine in the driveway to Mbeges house. She was eighteen already, but in the same grade he had attended until a couple of weeks ago, when he started working full time at the construction site. 

Murphy thought the story of how her parents flew the mexican desert when she had been six years old sounded badass as hell. While other kids sat in school learning the ABC she had been on her own little adventure, as she called it. 

Murphy thought her parents did good by making it seem like that for her, even though they weren‘t her biological parents. Once Emori told him, that they found her and Otan, who was three years older and not her biological brother by the looks of it, in a ditch. Murphy thought, she didn‘t even know how badass she sounded telling those stories like they were the most normal thing on this planet. How badass her patents were for wanting them when nobody else did. Murphy wouldn‘t want to imagine what might have became of her, if she‘d been left to fend for herself. 

„John! Hey,“ she said, voice happy, stepping out of her beloved piece of royal blue scrap metal. Murphy loved her old Ford. If would probably be ages until he had enough money for a car, but since Emori drove her old, blue Ford he realised how much a car could mean freedom. Freedom to go wherever you pleased. 

Emori was holding onto a little basket filled with wrapped sweets, mexican spices and scented bars of soap. She threw her arm around him, as if she missed him now that she didn‘t saw him everyday at school or rather everyday while they ditched school. He wondered if she went to class now or who she was ditching with. Mbege sure not, that nerd. 

„I‘ve got so much to tell you,“ she announced. 

„You got lucky?“ he wiggled his eyebrow. 

„No, way better!“ But then her eyes widened. „What happened to your arm, John?“ She softly touched the bandange with her left hand, looking worried. „Was it your ...?“

„No, mom is back to ignoring me.“ Emori looked sad, as she took his hand with her not so normal one, that she hid in a big black glove. It looked off with her summer dress but he was used to that. Just as she was used to his moms phases of either ignoring his existence, slurring profanities at him or making empty promises about things being different from now on. There wasn‘t a single person who knew more about him and life at home than her. 

Murphy nodded to the house. They should get going, he didn‘t want to hold up the family from breaking their fast. It was Mbege opening the door. He hugged Emori tight, grinning when she was wishing him a happy Eid. 

"Come on you little shits, my parents are waiting," Mbege greeted them just so loud that his parents couldn't chasitize him for swearing on their most important holiday. 

They went into the living room, where the family plus Mr. Mbeges widowed mother sat together, waiting for the guests to arrive to break this evenings fast. They already had a light breakfast, because they weren't allowed to fast on the first day of Eid, but wanted the evenings dinner to be a special occassion for the family. 

They were all dressed fine. Murphy knew they brought new clothes each year for the holiday, mostly long skirts and nice blouses for the woman and dress shirts and slacks for the men. Murphy had grabbed a dark jeans, that had almost no holes in it and the cleanest t-shirt he had. He took time to comb his hair and wash his hands to get rid of all the dirt under his fingernails. It was the least he could do to show them his thanks for inviting him to dinner this special evening. Murphy already smelled all the spices of the different foods that awaited them later tonight. His stomach grumbled softly, he hoped nobody heard it. 

"Eid Mubarak", Murphy said, voice timid, as he offered Mr. Mbege his hand. The man beamed at him, obviously pleased with Murphys manners. Murphy looked over to Emori greeting Mrs. Mbege with an hug, wishing her a happy Eid, presenting her gift basket and thanking her for having them. 

The Mbeges weren't strict moslems, so for Murphy and Emori it was okay to shake hands with both of Mbeges parents, but after Murphy o shoke Mrs. Mbeges hand, he looked unsure to the grandmother. Mbege told him, that on the Sugar Feast muslims all over the world also honored the elderly by kissing their hand and touching their foreheads to the elderlys hand. Murphy watched Emori do exactly that to Mbeges grandma. 

"Aslaam Aleykum, thank you, jameela," the grandma answered. She spoke english well, but with a heavy accent. Emori grinned.

"What does that mean, jameela?"

"I said you are a good girl."

"And it also means beautiful, right grandma?" Mbeges sister piped up, happy to show off her language skills. She was seven years old and her piggytail braids were bouncing on her head by the way she was to exited to sit still. Murphy remembered he had been quite the same way on christmas when he was her age. 

By now he wasn‘t exited anymore for the holidays. Mom didn‘t care either way. There were never any presents, family gatherings or homecooked food. Last years christmas had been kinda okay, mom even ordered chinese takeout before she put herself to sleep with eggnogg and cheap wine. It was mostly peacefull and Murphys belly had been filled with greasy eggrolls and sweet and sour chicken. It was as okay as holidays got at home. 

"Yes yes, and a fine young man that you brought with you. Eid mubarak," the grandma turned to Murphy, who took all his courage to do what Mbege told them about and what he just saw Emori doing. 

"Eid mubarak," he said, his cheeks reddening as he stepped back. He wasn‘t used to interact with grandparents. His mothers never cared about them either way and his dads lived so far away, that one day after his father died they stopped visiting and than another day the calls stopped. By now they were just a faint memory of apple pies and board games. 

"What good mannered friends you have," Mbeges grandma complimented. Murphy was rarely regarded as good mannered. His teachers had mostly been fed up by him, most customers in the grocery store treated him like shit when he was packing their bags and his mom was a story on it's own. 

"Let us go to the kitchen now. It's time to break our fast," Mr. Mbege said and lead the way to their kitchen. The table was covered in a white tablecloth, colorful arabic lanterns and little glittering stars littering between the different dishes of food.

They all sat down around the table and Mr. Mbege invited them to pray with him. Murphy looked down to the table and listened to the foreign sound of his prayer. It soothed his anxious nerves. Murphy didn't really knew why he was that nervous, he knew most of the people rather well, but on the other side maybe it was a logical reaction. 

He truly wasn't used to sat around a nice table filled with food that took hours to be made for the sole reason to show thanks and dedication to the ones they loved. 

"Thank you for celebrading id al-fitr with me, my family," Mbeges father ended the prayer. "Let us break the fast."

He started with cutting the lamb roast, serving each of them a large piece, before giving around bowls of biryani rice, salads, flatbread, kebab meat, savory roasted onions and heavenly spiced bean stew. Murphy looked down at his plate, after filling it until the food touched the golden rim. He felt almost embarassed by the fact, but then he saw that everyone filled their plates with as much food as he did, so he started to dig in, when the others started to eat too. 

The food was heavenly, spicy and filling. He coulnd't remember to have eaten meat that tender before. Murphy enjoyed his meal as he listened to Mbeges family and Emori talk. Usually he wasn't one to keep quiet. Murphy liked to talk, he was good at sassing people or utter some bullshit, but this here was peaceful and he felt unsure if she should speak up. He didn't want to jinx it and say some stupid shit, that destroyed the mood. So he decided to enjoy his food and stay quiet until dinner was over. 

The family was cleaning up the table, before Mr. and Mrs. Mbege brought over some wrapped gift boxes and little baskets filled to the brim with chocolate, nuts and dried fruit. He put a basket in front of each person, before giving a gift to every kid at the table. 

Murphy didn't even notice how he scooted back some centimeters on his chair, softly muttering: "No, no. Come on, Mr. Mbege." He really wanted no gift. Unlike Emori he couldn't even bring the family something to thank them for inviting him. 

"It's rude to not appreciate a gift that is given to you on Eid," Mr. Mbege said kindly, while Emori grabbed his hand under the table. When the others opened their gift boxes, Murphy started nibbling at the wrapped paper with the hand that wasn't held by Emoris big one.

Mbege got some knew clothes, books and the latest Fifa game for his console. His little sister got toys and hair ties and a pink dress. Emori grinned up, when she stroked over the soft royal blue glove that looked as if it fit right over her hand. She also got some nice earrings and one lantern that looked as colorful as the ones on the table. 

"Thank you so much!" Emori said, touched by the thoughtful gift.

Murphy got nudged by Mbege, who told him: "Come on, man. Hurry, I can't wait for dessert!" 

Murphy knew that he couldn't get out of it, so he hastily opened the gift box, looking at the shiny new workboots and a yellow spongebob squarepants pyjama pants. He knew how expensive shoes were. Since his father died, almost all his clothes had been second hand or cheap trash from the grocery store. His sneakers had only been a few dollars last year, which was obvious by the holes in them. 

He really couldn't accept this. Murphy knew that the Mbeges had more money than his mom and him, with both parents working, but still they shouldn't spent that money on him. It was enough that almost half of his possessions were hand-me-downs from the Mbeges. But he also could not not accept the gift, having been told how rude that would be. Murphy really didn't want to be rude. Not to them, so he said a soft: "Thank you," hoping they would never again give him a present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all muslims and people who know more about it than I do: I hope my research was plentiful enough to show a respectful glimpse of your culture in this chapter. If I messed up, please tell me. 
> 
> For all of you: I promise the boys will met eacv other again next chapter ;) I told you it will be slow burn. And by slow burn I mean slow burn.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,
> 
> new chapter and finally the boys get to spent some time, yay!

_ The truth will set you free, _

_ but first it will make you feel miserable.  _

_ \- James A. Garfield _

On Monday Murphy wore his new workboots in case his boss had changed his mind and would have him work outside instead. And truth to be told, those boots were by far the best shoes he had, so it felt right to wear them. After lifting his hand in goodbye to Mr. Mbege and the guys that rode with them, he made his way to the office container. 

Mr. Blake was already there, sitting behind his desk and typing fast on his keyboard. He looked up, when he took notice of Murphy standing by the door and motioned him to come over. 

"Scoot the chair next to me. I'm still responding to mails. It‘s going to take me a while, but it might be interesting to look over my shoulder."

Murphy did as told and looked at the screen. The last time Murphy had looked at a PC was some time ago. It must‘ve been before Emori and Mbege became his allies in every presentation for school, taking over the reading and typing . There had been a time when Murphy really made an effort to try and deciffer the words in a book, on a screen, everywhere. He remembered it being easier before. Now he was totally out of it. 

The letters on Bellamy screen were all over the place, and they were small, which made it even harder to recognize more than a few words. It will be getting worse, Murphy knew, now that he worked as a unqualified help in construction. Outside nobody cared if he was able to read or write. Lots of guys didn‘t even know the language. Looking at the emails that Bellamy read - so so fast - and how his hands ran over the keyboard as he answered them, Murphy realized that this here was a dead end for him. 

He could never work a job like this, where he had to know his spelling and how to write a response. He‘d forever go from one stupid job to another. But really, did he expect differently? Honestly, not really for the past months. True, sometimes he allowed himself to daydream, what he could do if he wasn‘t to dumb to properly read and write. What he could have archived, hadn‘t his father died. Who he could be today, all the things he was missing out on. Like graduation. Murphy felt angry and yeah, he even felt sad, knowing he would never graduate. His dad would be ashamed of him. 

"Oh that's interesting, right Murphy?" Bellamy mused, scrolling down some email. Murphy tried to at least deciffer the subject, but even that was hard for him, expecially since his boss seemed to expect an answer. Why he did that instead of ignoring him was beyond Murphy. Murphy felt himself become nervous, his hands were sweating and his mouth went dry. He hated to tell people about how dumb he was. Of course his boss would knew that he was some unqualified high school drop out if he looked into his file, but it was different to talk about his shortcomings. 

"Yeah, sure," Murphy tried to sound as if he knew what his boss was talking about. Maybe he would be able to understand if Bellamy scrolled slower and if he wasn't as nervous. But he'd never ask. It was of no use either way. He'd be outside again tomorrow or the day after, if Mr. Blake was still more concerned about his health than he should be. 

"You can accompy me when the reviewer comes on Wednesday. It will be interesting."

Murphy nodded, even if he didn't plan to tag along as the dumbest intern Mr. Blake ever had for longer than today. He was sure, if he went to his foreman tomorrow morning, his boss wouldn't even care about it.

Murphy knew that Mr. Blake was new at this job and he seemed to be young. It must be a lot of responsibility, so of course he had been concerned last Friday, when Murphy was covered in blood. But the weekend lay between the accident (which really hadn' been one, but Murphy was no tattletale) and today. 

"I'm just going to confirm the meeting and then I need another coffee. You want one too?"

"No, thanks." Murphy made sure to buy a bottle of water, but the change he found at home hadn't been enough to buy food too. It had been really embarassing that his boss feed him on Friday, even if it only was to get his blood sugar up. He wanted no repeat of that. Not even coffee. 

"You don't drink coffee?"

"Sometimes."

"You are awfully quiet today, Murphy. I everything okay? Are you in pain?"

"No, Mr. Blake. I'm good. Just ...," Murphy tried hard to think of something to say without making a complete idiot out of himself. He didn't even knew why he was so damn nervous and awkward. "Should I continue with the stacks?"

Mr. Blake seemed confused for a moment, so Murphy motioned to the stacks of papers he had started to shred last week. His boss nodded. 

"Yes, sure. Thank you, Murphy. When you're finished, you can come with me to check the site."

"Okay," Murphy nodded before starting with the papers. This was a task where nothing could go wrong, so Murphy took his time, hoping Mr. Blake didn't expect him to do something he'd need to use his limited amount of brain cells for. 

Bellamy watched Murphy run the papers through the shredding maschine. He seemed off today. Not that Bellamy really knew how the guy usually behaved, but he liked to think that he got a glimpse last Friday of a sassy and clever young man. 

Today he just appeared to be impartial. Maybe he had a harsh weekend. Bellamy had his share of those, he still has them, even if he tried to think of the responsibility he had within the week, when he went out with Echo and Raven. Both girls surely could drink him under the table, if they tried. That had been his downfall more than once. Bellamy decided to leave Murphy be. The guy was working, what more did he even want? Bellamy was sure not everyone of the guys outside would play assisstant, if given the chance. Most would probably try and get money out of an accident like that. Bellamy was quiet confident Murphy wouldn`t do that. He didn't seem like the type. 

It took both of them nearly an hour until they were ready for Bellamys daily walk around the site. He liked to make sure, that everyone was on time. Bellamy had never before worked in construction, his courses covered almost nothing of the things he was supposed to do around here but Marcus trusted him to do just fine. 

Most of the things Bellamy did were coordinating and overseeing. Making sure that everyone knew what they were supposed to do and when things needed to be finished was thus one of the most important tasks of his daily work. 

Murphy tagged along, no more talkactive than he had been the whole morning, until they arrived at the cranes. Mr. Mbege, who worked in that divison, approached them. Bellamy knew that most of the guys were making fun of him for his daily tour and that some of the supervisors were rather annoyed by those short little consultations he liked to do. Bellamy looked around, but couldn't spot the foreman, that was responsible around here. 

"Shumway is not there today. I'm his substitute. You want an update for today, Mr. Blake?"

"That would be perfect, Mr. Mbege, right?"

"Yes, right," he said, before he began to explain what they had been up to this morning, what was planned for today and with which parts they were struggeling. Bellamy told him, he would consult people responsible for clearing those issues. 

"Good, I'll get back to it, then. Have a good day, Mr. Blake. Murphy, until later."

"Later, Mr. Mbege."

"How do you know each other?" Bellamy asked. He didn't want to pry, but he hated how quiet Murphy was today. He'd enjoyed last Friday, the kid had been fun to work with. 

Bellamy would like to give him a chance to see some aspects of the project he wouldn't be able to see while digging holes for them. He thought it might be interesting for him. Maybe he should’ve just given him a couple of days off instead. 

"He's my neighbor," Murphy answered. "I hang around with his son."

"His son's not working here, right?"

"No, Mbege is still at school." As most of the young guys around here, like Murphy, should be. So Bellamy only nodded. He wanted to ask more. Ask, why Murphy wasn't still in school. Had he graduated? Did he work here to save up for college? Maybe they could even find something to do for him with more of a perspective. 

Bellamy knew Kane liked to sponsor and challenge young and promising people. Maybe he hadn‘t always been the person to do that, but as much as he changed their life, his mom, Octavia and him also changed Kane. He might have known it before, but he surely realized how many kids couldn‘t strive because they hadn‘t the means to. Bellamy would‘ve been such a kid had his mom never met Kane. 

Bellamy and Murphy went over to the next divison. It was the one Murphy was usually working at. The foreman, Charles Pike, came over. He was not taller than Bellamy and Murphy, as he realized. The kid was tall for his age. Or he and Pike were short. Either way Pike was a burly man and he didn‘t particulary looked happy spotting both of them. 

"What trouble has he been in now, boss?" he asked, but before Bellamy could answer, he was directing his attention to Murphy. "Really, this is gonna be your last warning, kid!"

"I did nothing," Murphy muttered, ignoring the snickering of the guys a few feet over. 

"I'm gone for one day and you scram. The guys told me you had been slacking for days now. And today what? You overslept or what is your excuse this time?"

"I can explain," Murphy tried to argue, even if he knew that it wouldn't matter much. Pike never believed him. Of course, nobody of the guys here had told him what happened. They never liked to get involved. And Connor and Miles liked to fuck things up for him. He hated how they seemed to enjoy the talking off he got, by the smug looks on their stupid faces. 

"You can always explain. I'm sick of your shit. Get to digging or this was your last day." Order bellowed, the discussion was over for Pike and he turned to Bellamy, who had watched the scene unfold. "Sorry, boss. This ones a troublemaker, but I will get him in line."

Murphy felt his hands sweat once again. It was true, he was in trouble often for getting in fights with Connor and Miles. Pike never listened when he tried to voice his reason. Those two were the worse. His newest wound was just the prove of that. Stupid fucks. 

"Get, boy! I won't repeat myself,“ Pike ordered, voice hard and harsh, so Murphy took his bearings and was just about to go get a shovel, when Bellamy motioned for him to come back again.

"Murphy, you're with me,“ he said and turned back to Pike. „After he got hurt on Friday, I asked him to assist me for some days. I should have thought to inform you, Mr. Pike. I know it's hard to plan the day if you don't know how many guys you have."

Murphy looked at his boss with big eyes. That had been real smooth. He seemed to be good at this talking-shit. And, Murphy realized, he defended him. He could have easily let Pike take the responsibility and get Murphy out of his hair. But he didn't. 

Murphy stepped up to his boss again. He wondered if it was good or bad to be seen with Mr. Blake. He knew the guys were laughing behind his back, calling him Guardsman because of that round he made each day. Still he was their boss, as Mbege dad said, he was the one to issue their paychecks and if Connor and Miles knew that he was in good favor of him, maybe they would step down a bit and leave him alone for a while. So Murphy put a smug look on his face and winked at the two shitheads. 

"I'm sure it's nothing, Mr. Blake. You good to work, where you belong, right Murphy?" Pike fixed him with a stern gaze. Murphy knew, that as the new guy in a construction crew it was usual to do the shit jobs, but sometimes he got really pissed by the tasks Pike got him to do. If anything needed cleaning, it was him who did it. The first week Pike even had him cleaning the mobile toilets, only for Murphy to find out later that there was a service company doing that each week. 

But Murphy hauled supplies, digged holes and cleaned shit without complaining to his foreman. He really needed the money and as a temp you don't go around complaining if you still want to have the job next morning. Still Pike treated him like a deliquent, which he really wasn‘t. Murphy couldn‘t say much for himself, but he really never got into any troubles with the law. Sure, he occasionally pocketed some shit in the grocery shop, but he was hungry and he never let himself get caught. 

"It sure wasn't nothing, but his injuries are confidential. I'll inform you later this week when to expect him back to your crew. Do you need a replacement for the time being?"

Murphy watched how Pike tried to control his anger. Murphy knew the guy didn't like to be talked to like this, especially by someone younger than him. Pike demanded respect. In his crew he was the one who gave the orders. Murphy hadn't seen people openly question him. Pike was used to get his ways. Murphy thought it was super cool, how Mr. Blake dealt with him. Sure, if you were the boss it was way easier to defy and discuss, but still, Mr. Blake kinda did it for him. In Murphys eyes that counted a whole lot. 

"No, I have the crew cover him. He's a slow one, either way." Bellamy shoot a sideway glance to Murphy. The kids gaze had shifted to the ground. Bellamy couldn't see if he was angry or ashamed. 

"Alright. Can you give me a short update on this weeks general plan? When will you finish this area?"

"End of next week, if everything goes like plan," Pike answered, giving Bellamy some pointers on the workflow for the next few days. Bellamy made sure to ask some clarification questions but after a couple of minutes he had all information he needed. 

"Come on, Murphy," Bellamy said, after bidding Pike a quick goodbye. 

Murphy watched Pike bark some instructions to the other guys. He was glad not to work there today. Pike was awful most of the time, but when he was angry he was a literal asshole. Murphy had been on the other end of his moods more than once. He could do with not being screamed at today, so he hurried after his boss. 

"Thanks," Murphy mumbled, when he stepped up to Mr. Blake. 

"What was that about?" His boss shoot him another sideway glance. "Troublemaker, slow one. You sure are not his favorite."

"Usually I ain't," Murphy mumbled. 

"You got problems with the crew? They don't like you?" 

"No. But they don't like you either, so I'm good," Murphy said, instantly annoyed with himself, when Mr. Blake raised his eyebrow. Way to go, for once in his life there was a superior protecting him and Murphy let his own dumb big mouth take over to fuck things up for himself. 

"What makes you think so, Murphy?"

"Nothing."

"Come on. You started it, now you have to pull through."

Murphy sighed. He didn't want to have this conversation. Nobody liked tattle-tales. He should really watch his mouth. It wouldn't be the first time he got in trouble for it. His mom frequently told him to shut up. You would think, the split lips he got from back talking to her, should have taught him better.

"Ever heard of Guardsman Blake?" 

When his boss only raised his eyebrow again, Murphy explained: "Some of the guys think it's funny that you are doing this, okay? Someone said it looked like you were doing prison check ups or some shit."

"Really?" Bellamy said, while opening the door to his office. Of course he knew about the shit-talking behind his back. But it was kinda adorable how Murphy squirmed while telling him the story of his unfortunate nickname. 

"Since then it kinda stuck," Murphy shrugged his shoulders, stepping into the office container. Mr. Blake grabbed his wallet, grinning back at him. 

"Where do you want to go for lunch?"

"What?"

"There is a sandwich place down at the broadwalk. You up fo that?" Mr. Blake ushered him out of the container, making sure to lock the door behind them. 

"Forgot my wallet at home," Murphy lied. "I'm just gonna wait here."

"My treat, come on. Lunch rush is gonna start soon."

Murphy trottled after his boss, trying to come up with some shit to get out of the food offer. Mr. Blake really shouldn't want to feed him. Especially not at some fancy sandwich place at the broadwalk. Usually Murphy didn't hang around this part of town, shit was way more expensive here than in his neighborhood. 

"So, Murphy. You think I'd be a good Guardsman?"

"Would be where?", he asked, still thinking about ways to make himself scarce. 

"Prison, military, another universe."

"Sure," Murphy mumbled after a while, hiding his grin. He didn't want to, but this reminded him of Emori. She was a daydreamer and she liked to spin her own stories, always asking him shit like: "In another life, do you think I'd rock a face tattoo?" or "If we would survive a zombie apocalypse, where would we hide? Cave, Underground or some dead rich guys digs?" Over time, Murphy found out which answers to give to amuse her.

"You'd rock being a guard at a space prison," he said, because Emori would love his answer. She taught him all about dreaming youself away, but he rarely did it for himself. No use, if in all your possible szenarios, you‘d probably be a fuck-up, too. 

His boss laughed out loud. He sounded kind and amused, so Murphy kept grinning. 

"Who would you be, then?" Mr. Blake asked.

Probably a prisoner, Murphy thought. That would be just his luck. 

"The dashing hero, of course," he stated instead, not believing a word he said. 

"Of course," Bellamy mused, a big grin plastered on his face. Murphy was a strange guy, but he was funny and nice. Bellamy liked him, but he was also his boss, so he should probably talk to Pike again. If Murphy really was a troublemaker or a slow worker, it could be good to talk to him about it, before it was to late and he really got himself into trouble. 

He was to young to work full-time, Bellamy thought, but lots of kids did for different reason. They all got their backstories. Some couldn‘t even speak the language, others were piss-poor and never had a good role-model in their life. Maybe nobody ever taught Murphy some work-ethic. He was not theor trainee, but a temporal worker for the summer, but if they could give him some good advise or pointers on how to be a diligent workee it would surely benefit him for future jobs. 

When they arrived at the Sandwich place, it wasn't full yet. Bellamy usually tried to get food either before or after the lunch rush, especially when he planned to go to places this good. He loved their sandwiches. Way better than Subway. 

"What do you want?" he asked, when they were next in line. Murphy was looking at the menu next to the counter. He seemed interested, but in the end he only said: 

"Just double what you take."

"You don't even know what I'm gonna take," Bellamy mused. "What if I take the vegan one over there?"

"What if I'm a vegan and find that offensive now?" Murphy shot him a shit-eating grin and that totally didn't give Bellamy butterflies. 

"Hi," Mr. Blake greeted, when it was their time to order. 

"Welcome to Sandy's Sandwichs. What do you want?"

"Two Wholebread Cheesesteaks with Bell Peppers and Lettuce. You want Jalapenos on yours, Murphy?"

"Nah", the kid said. 

"One with Jalapenos. Two Cokes and pack up two donuts of the day."

"Sure thing."

Bellamy paid for lunch and grabbed their tray, when the order was done. They went outside and sat down at a round table overlooking the bay. Bellamy pushed the tray to the middle of the table and sipped at this coca cola, before unwrapping his sandwich. 

"Enjoy," he said and digged in himself. He saw Murphy slowly unwrapping his food, before taking a bite. The kids eyes widened and he sighed really really softly. Bellamy almost choked by that sound andthe look on Murphy face, but he got himself in line. He didn't want to come across as a creep. 

"Good?" he asked with a grin, chuffed with his lunch choice. 

"So good," Murphy said, before taking another bite of his food. He leaned back into his chair, clearly enjoying his cheesesteak sandwich. 

X

After lunch Murphy continued shredding papers, while his boss sat behind his desk, answering mails once again and occassionally making a call somewhere. Murphy tried to shut him out. Mr. Blake defending him in front of Pike and him buying the best cheesesteak sandwich Murphy ever eaten done something to him. Sure, his boss was young and good-looking, and he was nice to Murphy, but he was so out of his league, that his pinning was the dumbest thing. 

Murphy always knew he liked boys more than girls. He remembered telling his father about his first crush, when he had been twelve. Murphy couldn't remember a time his dad hadn't been supportive of him, so he was not at all scared to tell him, that this boy from his class wrote him a love letter. Murphy needed his dad to look over his reply, because really, giving your crush a letter with a bunch of mistakes was just embarassing. So his dad was awesomly cool about the fact his kid would rather kiss boys then girls. Six days later his dad died and Murphy never ever replied to the second later he got from that other kid. 

"Murphy, can you come over here, please?"

"Sure." Murphy pushed away the stacks of papers he still had to shred and went over to his boss. 

"I have a thing I want you to do this week. Look." Mr. Blake pointed to a excel list on is screen. 

"These are all the contacts who subcribed to our newsletter. We want to sent them a 4th of July present from the company but we want the card to be handwritten. More personal, you know. Look, I have an example here."

Murphy swallowed and pushed his sweaty hands inside the pocket of his jeans, but he looked over to the card in front of his boss. It screamed 4th of July, colered in blue, white and red. In the front stood in bold black printed letters: "Happy 4th of July. Have a bright night." Murphy was ashamed at how long he needed to deciffer those dumb couple of words, so he didn't even try to read the inside, when his boss opened the card. 

"See, like this. The cards are over there," Mr. Blake pointed to a big carton next to the fridge. "I will just print out that list for you. You will need a while, there are a lot of people on the mailing list, but I'm not in a hurry to send you back out with that arm of yours."

"No," Murphy said, almost inaudible. His boss only raised his eyebrow and made a suprised sound, so Murphy said, a little bit louder now: "My handwriting is shit, boss."

"Come on, just try some. You'd really help me out. This week is gonna be really busy and I can't do them myself. We need to get them to the office building across town, so they can send them out."

Murphy took the card, the printed list and that stupid fancy pen, when his boss gave it over. He went to grab the box with the cards and put them next to the visitors chair across from Mr. Blake. Murphy fished out one and checked the first line on the list. The letters were all over the place and when he squinted his eyes it only got worse. Murphy felt his hands beginn to shake, so he pushed them between his butt and the chair. He couldn't do this shit. It had been weeks since Murphy really had to read something. His mom usually ignored all letters she got. They were mostly invoices they weren't able to pay either way. Murphy always pushed them into the drawer of that ugly ass tv cabinet in the living room. 

"Murphy, you ok?" he heard his boss ask and only then he noticed how he must look. Stained gaze fixed on that stupid list, shaking hands hidden and his face ashen. 

"Are you dizzie again?" He instantly got up and went over to the fidge, probably rummaging for another Gatorade to get his freaking blood sugar level runnig. As if it wasn't enough that he paid for Murphys lunch. Everything about this was embarassing. Even more so, because his boss was hot as hell and Murphy just a damn loser. 

"No," Murphy pressed out. He pushed his chair back, as he tried to stand up. 

"What are you doing?" he heard Mr. Blake ask, but before his boss might stop him, he was already at the door of the office container. 

"I can't do that," he said, because he couldn't just run out. Murphy still needed this job. He supposed it wouldn't be easy to find another one as a high school drop out who was to dumb to write a damn card. 

"Why?" asked his boss "Whats the problem?"

"I just can't okay? I don't even know what you want me to write." Murphy felt his face heat up. He might have never felt that ashamed before. There were worlds seperating him and his boss. 

"But it's written in …" Bellamy said, before he realised what the problem might be. "Oh…"

"Yeah. So, uhm…" Murphy stuttered, before daring to ask: "I still got a job, right? I don't need to … you know, to dig holes and shit."

Bellamy felt awful for embarassing the kid so much. He should've been more perceptive. The boy must have been bored out of his mind the whole day, as Bellamy stared at his computer screen. He wanted to do damage control, so he said: "Sure, yeah. Just go home, Murphy. If you feel well enough, you can come tomorrow, if not you can totally do a few days of sick leave."

"Yeah, I'm gonna be there tomorrow," Murphy told him and Bellamy nodded. As if he could fire the kid for being hurt and unable to properly read and write. What a poor guy. Bellamy sunk back into his office stool, replaying the day in his head. So much made sense now. And so much didn‘t. What a mess. 

X

Over the next days Bellamy only saw Murphy when he made his daily round through the site. On Tuesday Bellamy started his round early and when he saw Murphys face, pained and sweating from digging, he told Pike to take it easy on the kid and to give him tasks that wouldn't sprain his injured arm. 

Bellamy wanted to go outside later again to check on the division Murphy was working on, but his afternoon was busy with calls and mails he had to answer. He felt sorry that Murphy had to go back to hard work so soon after being hurt on the site Bellamy was responsible for. The kids should rest and get well again, but Bellamy didn‘t knew shit about him. 

He didn‘t knew if the kid needed the money and if he did, what for. Definitly not saving up for college, like Bellamy had hoped in the first place but who knew what home was like for this boy. Maybe there were little sibling he needed to care for. Bellamy knew how it felt to be responsible for a younger sister. He‘d done the same for Octavia hadn‘t Kane come to take some responsibility off his shoulder. Maybe Murphy had no one to ever do that for him. 

Wednesday Bellamy made his round while the crew was on break. When he saw Murphy sitting in the shade of the construction trailer, with no lunch and an half drained water bottle he had a hard time to not bring him anything from the sandwich place by the boardwalk. He just hoped the kid forgot his lunch just like he forgot his money on Monday. He really hoped Murphy had money to forget. 

Bellamy sure had been poor as a kid but mom always made sure he and Octavia had lunch. Sometimes it was only some stale toast and some almost overripe fruit, be they never gone hungry. 

Bellamy couldn‘t imagine to do work this hard - digging holes in the burning california sun - with only water to keep him going. Still the kid had been embarassed enough to tell Bellamy about his shortcomings. He didn‘t want to add onto it by bringing the kid lunch in front of to many watchful eyes. 

Bellamy tried to tell himself lies about how the kid surely ate his lunch before Bellamy arrived at Pikes division. Still his own tuna salad tasted bland, as he thought about the kids outside, holding his water bottle while the others ate sandwichs and fruit out of paper bags they brought from home. 

Being poor came in shades and Bellamy should remember that better than he sometimes did. 

Thursday Bellamy went on his round after lunch. When he couldn't spot Murphy, he asked Pike if the kid was there. He hoped Murphy wasn't and would take his offer of sick leave. Maybe he should have told him it was payed sick days, even if they usually only offered those for the guys who had a fixed contract. But Murphy was there. Pike told him that he send Murphy and some other guys to get some pipes for the pipelines they were working on. 

Bellamy refrained from checking on the kid. He certainly wouldn't get hurt by those good-awful metal pipes two times in a row. So he went back inside his office container where Octavia sat sprawled on his office chair, writing those damn cards because he asked her too. It was her short day of school and her boyfriend was still occupied with classes at the local community college. 

If Bellamy wasn‘t currently pinning after a literal sixteen year old and if Lincoln wasn‘t a real fine guy - with muscles and brain and that freaking monster bike - he‘d definitly still find that thought of his little sisters boyfriend being in colleges awful. 

"You checked on your little pet project?" Octavia asked. She was a little shit and he wished he hadn't told her about Murphys injury and his dumb behaviour when he offered the kid to work as his faux intern. Octavia was seventeen. Of course she only grinned and mocked him with it. It was her job as his little sister. 

"I don't do these rounds because of Murphy." She knew that. But he knew, that she liked to ignore it in favor of bugging him. He kind of earned it for all the shit he gave Lincoln. If Octavia knew the kids age, he‘d never hear the end of it. 

"Sure. Is he sweet?" Octavia opened another card, copying the text in her beautiful feminine handwriting. 

"O. He's a kid." Dumbest fucking thing to say! 

"Contrary to your own beliefs you are not a grandpa yet, Bell." She handed him the finished card to sign, even if he had a whole stack in front of him. He hated those cards with fervor. 

"It doesn't matter. He's not even greeting me."

Octavia looked at him as if he was dumb. 

"Of course he isn't. He's probably embarassed." She started yet another card, after adding one to his growing pile "Maybe even intimidated. You're all bossy like that." She indicated to his dress shirt, his slacks and his fancy smart watch. Maybe Bellamy was really dumb. He tried to treat Murphy like they were equals, but they weren't. If he was in Murphys shoes, he wouldn't indicate a conversation either.

On Friday Murphy was back to digging holes for the water pipelines they needed before starting the ground work and the structual engineering of the houses. Bellamy knew he should make sure that he was alright to do this hard manual work again, but he didn't want to impose. He felt strangely unsure, when it came to Murphy. But Octavia was right yesterday. The kid probably felt awful after what happened on Monday. Bellamy certainly would have if it were him, so he stopped at the rim, crouched down and nodded to Murphy. 

"Hey," Bellamy said "You doing good?"

Murphy stopped his digging and looked up at him, like he wasn't sure if Bellamy was adressing him. 

"Sure," he said, voice almost timid. He was sweating in the warm morning sun, so Bellamy handed over the bottle of Gatorade he brought with him. 

"Why are you bringing me this?" Murphy asked, not taking the offered drink. 

"Take it as an apology," Bellamy said, wincing at his own stupity. What a dumb idea to indicate a conversation like this, so he added: "A bad one."

"Yeah." Now Murphy was grinning. A little side smirk, that Bellamy recognized from the week before. He grabbed the bottle and took a big sip. 

"You don't have to apologize for anything," he said after closing the lid. Bellamy thought differently. There was so much he had to apologize for. His decisions hadn't been professional. Not in the slightest. He should've just sent the kid home, paid sick leave or not. But instead he embarassed the kid, by making him admit issues that weren't even relevant for his job. 

"Let's agree to disagree here, okay?" Bellamy smiled. 

"Sure, you're the boss." Murphy spotted another shit eating grin, but he covered it up by drinking some more of the Gatorade, before stuffing the bottle into the back pocket of his work pants. Bellamy once again grinned back at the kid. It was a start. 

„Have a good weekend, Murphy. I see you on Monday.“

„See you, boss.“ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it would be slow burn but at lwast we know both are pining for each other, our stupid boys :)


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go guys, chapter four, it’s hot outside (at least in this story it is) we are still in the middle of winter around my hometown - but either way Murphamy is slow burning on and on ... so enjoy 7000+ words of slow slow slow burning boys. 
> 
> Leave a comment, it motivates me greatly ;)

_"You can't buy happiness,_

_but you can buy ice cream_

_and that is pretty much the same thing."_

_— Unknown_

On the weekends Murphy usually hung around at Mbeges or Emoris house. If they didn't, they were roaming the streets of their neighborhood. Murphy certainly avoided to be home as much as possible. His mom drunk herself dumb everyday but on the weekends it was even worse. Usually the boyfriend of the month came over, baring alcohol, cigarettes and sometimes even harder drugs, likely in exchange for sex. His mom was no prostitute, at least Murphy thought she wasn't. She didn't get any money from the dudes, but he saw way to many strange male figues walk in and out of their house, stinking of cheap booze and grass. 

By now he learnt to make himself scarce. It was no problem to leave and come back through his window, but most weekends Emori or Mbege let him crash at their place. They didn't knew the whole story, since he wasn't to keen on telling, but they knew him since years. They saw enough of his bruises and knew about his reluctance to be home. Both knew his mom and saw her shitfaced in the frontyard scaring away the stray cats often enough. Murphy might have never really told them about abuse and neglect, but they knew either way and tried to help as much as possible by offering him a place to sleep for the nights he didn't want to go home. 

When he was younger he hadn't been that clever yet. With twelve he didn't knew how much a slap to the cheek hurt, he didn't knew how alcohol changed people. With thirteen he didn't understand, why his mom wasn't protecting him from the guys she was dating. She was just next door, while her fuck of the month was giving him a black eye for being in the way to the beer in the fridge. When he yelled for his mom, he just got a split lip out of it, before the fucker got his beer and made his way back to the couch, that mom never left to come to his aid. Slowly Murphy understood that it was better to not be in the kitchen or the livingroom at all when mom had company. There wasn't much food there either way and the adults never thought of ordering anything for him when they got take out. 

"There is a party later tonight. Let's go there", Emori said. It was early Saturday afternoon and she was sprawled on the couch in Mbeges bedroom, her naked feet in Murphys lap, her sandals tossed away to the side. It was awfully hot outside, but the portible air conditioner in Mbeges room made it bearable. The thing was old, but unlike all the shit in Murphys home, it worked well enough. 

"Where's the party?" Mbege asked, without looking up from his laptop. He was working on a presentation for school, that nerd. Emori was taking a break, sipping away on her soda and rather thinking about their evening plans than whatever shit they needed to think about for school. Murphy was just there for moral support and to avoid his mom. He didn't really listened when they told him about their topic. Something about recessive and dominant traits and a guy called Mendel. 

"It's at Roans. He's a friend of Otan."  
"Since when is Otan letting us tag along?" Murphy took a drink of his own soda. He felt bad that Mbege was always raiding their full fridge for them. He would definitly make sure to buy something to share for the weekend, as soon as he got his next paycheck.   
"That's my secret", Emori said with a roguish grin, poking Murphys thigh with her toe.   
"What are you blackmailing him with?" She had done that as long as he knew her. He was friends with her since middle school. Unlike Mbege who moved here after Murphys father died, Emori got to know him as a rather shy but happy kid. He was impressed by the badass girl from day one. They sat next to each other in class. Even back then she knew how to manipulate her older brother by knowing about things, he didn't want their parents to find out. Nonetheless she must have some good blackmail on him now, to get him to let them tag along to one of the parties he went to every weekend. Murphy knew Otan was friends with some shady people, but living around here, who wasn’t. 

"He broke moms favorite pot while cooking mac and cheese in it. He's scared to tell her. She will ground him for weeks." Emori laughed out loud.   
"Only your mom", Mbege mused. And here Murphy thought Emori was blackmailing her twenty year old brother with smoking weed or getting busted by the police, but no, he only broke a pot. Not that Murphy didn't get it. Breaking some of moms favorite possessions, taken that she hadn't managed to break them herself in an alcohol infused rage, would surely earn him a good beating. Emoris parents weren't like that, but her mom could be really scary when she brought out her mexican temperament. But unlike Murphys mom she loved and protected the kids she found in a ditch.  
"Yeah. Otan is scared shitless. He's trying to get a cousin of ours to buy a new one and send it from mexico."

"I doubt your mom won't notice", Mbege said, before putting the Laptop to the side to grab his own soda. He took a sip, before wiggling the empty can.   
"Of course she will notice", Emori grinned smugly, gulping the last sip of her drink. "But I’ll milk it as long as I can. So party tonight?"  
"Sure, why not." Murphy nodded. Whatever got him away from home. 

Mbege slid of the bed, grabbing at the other cans of soda only to stop when Murphys was still half full.   
"Drink, shithead. We've got enough of them."  
"Nah, I'm good, Begsy", Murphy took his drink to put it back on the table. Mbege just shrugged. He was accustomed to Murphys antics. But before he left the room, Murphy shouted after him: "And don't call me shithead."

"John…", Emori started, but when he shot her an annoyed look, she didn't continue. It wasn’t as if they hadn't talk about it over a dozen times. Whenever Mbege or Emori offered to pay for food or movie tickets or whatever little shit, he shut down and he knew it was right. Both may get some money from their parents and of course their families weren't as piss poor as his mom and him, but he wasn't their charity case. He was their friend. If he wasn't able to buy some soda and chips on a whim, he wouldn't guzzle a ton of theirs. 

"So party tonight. You driving or drinking, Em?" Mbege came back with more soda and some leftover homemade falafel balls. "I told mom we wouldn't be home for dinner tonight. Let's get some chilli cheese fries on the way. My treat, Murph. You can pay for as much as you want next month."  
Emori grabbed one of the chickpea balls. "I'm driving. Chilli Fries sound awesome."

X

Bellamy had been to Roans house a ton of times. He was Echos cousin and since he was a couple of years older then them he made parties at his own house since before Bellamy went away for university. For as long as Bellamy remembered Roan had always dealt with pot and his money sure wasn't clean, but he was an okay enough guy. Coming here and meeting all these people he knew since he was a child was like the link to a life that could’ve been his. Part of this life was his. Bellamy never fully left. 

When he arrived with Echo and Raven at half past nine there were already two dozen people at the house. It was still hot outside so the doors to the backyard were open. Lots of people sat outside. Bellamy still smelled the unmistakable scent of weed right away. At least it seemed to be the good kind. Still Bellamy didn't plan to smoke today, since he drove here. He might have done this shit when he was younger - smoke and drive - but as much as he still felt comfortable around here, he wasn’t a dumb kid anymore. 

"I got us some beer", Raven said, bearing cold bottles from the kitchen. Bellamy took one and sat down on the recliner in the living room. Parties like these where compleatly different from the ones he attended with Clarke and Wells, but he felt right at home in this environment. A party like this was where he first got drunk, where he smoked his first joint. He even got his first blowjob by a sweet but slightly drunk guy on a party like this. Raven and Echo would never let him forget the embaressment of getting caught in the act by some random dude. 

"Oh wow. We got babies at the party tonight", Echo mused from her place beside him. Bellamy followed her gaze to the entryway. Roan stood there with one of the guys who dealt for him. In fact most of the guys around here either dealt for Roan or brought from him. Bellamy had seen the guy before, he wasn't a new face but the kids he brought with him certainly were. 

There was a girl right next to Otan. She had a sweet face, young and tanned, thick brown hair and a summer dress hugging he sweet curves. Only the big blue glove on her right hand looked off. Strange kid, Bellamy thought. But when he saw who stood behind her and Otan, Bellamy lost all thoughts about her strange choice of accessory. What the hell was John Murphy doing here at Roans party? 

"Okay, Bell seemes to like what he sees. The black one or his little friend?" Echo teased, earning herself a laugh from Raven. Bellamy was totally out of his wits here. Sure he and Murphy were back to talking again since friday afternoon, but meeting him here felt strange. Should he go over and say hi? Wouldn't that be strange as fuck?  
"What?" Bellamy asked unintelligently, when he realised that Echo meant him.  
"I think the girl looks sweet", Raven grinned. "You think they are old enough to drink beer yet?"  
"Why?", Bellamy asked.   
"That's the second wh-question in row." Echo teased, while she lazily took a sip of her beer. 

"The answer is: because they are not drinking any", Raven piped up.   
"You thinking of going over? Go get her, girl. Show Bellamy how it's done."  
"You're both awful", Bellamy told them. Raven only shot him a kiss from afar.   
"See and learn", she said, before running of to get beer from the kitchen, leaving him and Echo behind. 

"So who is it? Little one, right?"  
"He's not that little", Bellamy said, wincing instantly, because what the fuck was he doing here? He was a grown man, he was the kids boss. Not a shy teenager, that never went up to talk to anyone at a party before. He certainly did. Hooking up with a sweet guy was nice. Bellamy never had a problem making the first step. Only that with Murphy, as sweet as the kid might be, he would pursure nothing. No first step needed.   
"But look at him, Bell. He looks like a baby. They all do."

Bellamy looked at him. Murphy stood with his back to him, talking to his friends. He was dressed in jeans and a black muscle shirt. His shoes had certainly seen better days. The other kids looked nicer. The girls dress fit well and the other boys trainers looked as good as new. 

Still Murphy was a good-looking kid. If he had spotted him tonight without knowing him already, he might have done what Raven was doing. Get the boy a beer and flirt with him. Bellamy had done it tons of times at parties like these. He was a rather good-looking young man with a healthy sex drive, so why wouldn’t he under normal circumstances?

"There she is", Echo said and pointed to Raven. "Wanna bet that she get's lucky tonight?"  
"It's Raven. Of course she will." Bellamy might be gay, but he certainly knew that Raven and Echo where both beautiful woman. A lot of the girls he knew from private school or the rich kids that attended the clubs Bellamy went to with Clarke and Wells would kill to look like them. Long and thick hair, beautiful faces and nice curves. But he knew they were more than their good looks. Raven and Echo were the coolest woman he knew. He would never stop being friends only because he was a rich kid, since his mom married Kane. 

X

"You up for some beer?" Murphy looked to the side, when he heard an unknown female voice. She looked good, older than them certainly but definitly good. And she smiled a big and nice smile right at Emori, who watched her with big eyes, before a smile fell over her face too.   
She fished for her keys, tossing them to Mbege, who catched them reluctantly. Unlike Murphy, who didn’t had the money to take the driver education course, Mbege took his as soon as he turned 16 and was saving up every dollar he got for a car of his own. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to drive Emoris, but he likely wanted to get high tonight. 

"Sure I like a beer. I'm Emori." She took it with her normal sized left hand. "Those are Murphy and Mbege. He's driving tonight, but Murphy is taking a beer."   
"Great." The girl offered him a bottle and when he took it, she directed her attention back to Emori. "I'm Raven." She clinked her own bottle against Emoris, still smiling bright. "You wanna come over and sit with my friends and me?" 

"Sure. Lead the way", Emori said. Making new friends came easy to her. It hadn't when she was a kid and still sure everyone hated her because of her strange hand and her heritage. But that was before she met Murphy, before she hung around with him and Mbege and way before she became comfortable with who she was. Emori came such a long way. Murphy was proud of her. He just wished, she wouldn't outgrow him so fast.

Murphy was sure one day Emori and Mbege would go to college, get a real education or a job that wasn't as dead end as the one he had. It wasn't a question if they would outgrow him, only when they would realize that being friends with him might not be forever. But it wasn't tonight, so Murphy followed Emori to meet Ravens friends. 

But as soon as he turned around he thought about running. It was just his luck that his boss was at a party like this. Wasn't the guy loaded or something? What the hell was he doing here?!  
"Hi Murphy", Bellamy said, too loud for Murphy to act like he didn't hear him over the music blasting from the stereo across the room.   
"Hi", he answered. 

"You know each other?" The other girl, equally as good-looking as Raven, asked, before boxing against Mr. Blakes shoulder. "From where?"  
"Another party", Murphy said, looking at his boss, pleading him silently to endorse his little lie. Mbege shot him a look, as if to ask him which party he went to without them in tow. Of course he knew, Murphy went to no parties alone, but he was a good friend and remained silent. Even if he was pissed about being lied to. Murphy saw it in his sideway glance. 

"You remember my name? Murphy was right?"  
"Yeah right. Sorry, don't remember your", Murphy was thankful Mr. Blake was giving him an out here. Of course he only knew the guys last name. He was to dumb to even read his signature properly and his boss knew. What a fucked up evening. He really shouldn't have come. 

"It's Bellamy. We haven't met, right?", he adressed Murphys friends, as if it might be that he knew them. He was freaking good at backing up Murphys lie. You wouldn’t have thought by the mans upstanding behaviour during the week. Murphy had no clue what a guy like him was doing at a party like this. But he was a damn good actor in Murphys little impro theater. 

"No", Emori said, shooting Murphy a look that clearly meant he'd have to explain later, before she introduced herself and Mbege, who sunk down on the sofa across from Mr. Blake. Murphy sat down next to him, nuzzling his beer in favor of saying something. 

Great. His friends were pissed about him telling shit and he sat across his fucking boss who knew what a fuckup he was. Murphy wasn’t even sorry about falling into the habit of swearing like a sailor in his head. He always did when he was annoyed and couldn’t get out of a situation. Better than a panic attack certainly. He had his fair share of those too, even if he wasn’t really sure they counted. Other people had worse problems than him, so he didn’t like to complain. Not even quietly. 

But Murphy didn’t need to worry about staying silent. Raven and Emori were doing all the talking. They clicked instantly. Murphy saw it in Emoris face. She was delighted by having been approched by the other woman. She was flirting like crazy. Murphy took it as his luck or she would have definitly dragged him outside to confront his lie. She never believed his bullshit. 

But instead of dragging him outside, she was dragged away by Raven.   
"I'm getting more beer", Echo said a while later and Mbege stood up too, leaving to talk to Otan. Murphy knew he was doing this on purpose. Mbege hated being lied to by him. Murphy sighed. His friends were fucking overbearing. 

"I'm sorry", Bellamy told him as soon as they were alone.   
"Yeah, not your fault." Murphy laid his head back against the backrest of the sofa for a second before looking at his boss again. "Thanks for playing along."  
"Sure." Even if he didn’t knew why exactly they had to lie to their friends. 

Bellamy took a sip of his beer. It was almost empty but he'd wait until Echo was back, even if he was sure she would stay away for a while, giving him the chance to hook up with Murphy if he wanted to. "Your shoulder is all good again?"he asked instead of trying to get into his pants.   
"Yeah,“ Murphy lied. The flesh around the wound was still taunt. In the morning after he woke up it was sore and after digging all day it still hurt, but he wouldn’t tell his boss. Sure, Mr. Blake would likely not fire him for being hurt, but he didn't want to risk it. Murphy still needed the job. 

"That's good. I'm glad. I was really worried, Murphy."   
"Yeah, sorry about that." Murphy ran his hand through the leftover condensation of his half empty beer bottle. His boss was making him anxious again, but he didn't want to be rude and leave. So he looked over to Emori and Raven. They weren't really dancing, but they were shaking their hips to the music while flirting like crazy. 

"You don't have to worry about your friend", Bellamy said, following his gaze. "Raven might come across as blunt, but she's nice." It was sweet that Bellamy wanted to comfort him, but Emori certainly didn’t need his protection when it came to hooking up with beautiful woman so Murphy laughed out loud for the first time this evening.   
"I'm not worrying. Emori is badass."

Bellamy huffed a laugh. "So you say she can keep up with Raven?"  
"'Course she can. She is awesome."  
"But she bats for the other team, right? She's not just fucking with Raven?"  
"No, she's definitly into her." Everyone who knew Emori would see it in an instant. Mbege was the only one of their trio that was straight. Emori always liked girls more than boys. She even knew before she met him. Emori made him feel normal, when the first love letter he got was from a boy instead of a girl. "And before you ask, no I'm not into Emori. She's just cool."

Bellamy laughed again. It was a nice laugh. Murphy felt himself relaxing. His muscles weren’t as taunt as they had been before. It wasn’t that bad to sit here with his boss, just talking like they were two dudes that met at a party instead.   
"Would be quiet inconvinent if you were then”, Bellamy said. He almost sounded teasing. 

"Yeah", Murphy leant back against the backrest of the couch, staying relaxed for now. Talking to his boss like this was not as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. It was almost fun. Mr. Blake was fun. 

"So what is she like? Raven I mean”, Murphy asked. He should stop it here, not invest in more conversation, but what did he have to lose? Murphy was pretty sure his job wasn’t on the line here and to be honest his boss looked like a compleatly different guy with his stone washed jeans and a simple t-shirt. His hair wasn’t slicked back like at work. Instead he looked like he forgot to comb it altogether, unruly curls falling into his freckled face. Bellamy looked younger. Murphy wondered how old he really was. 

Huh, Murphy huffed under his breath. He should stop calling his boss Bellamy, even in his head. To easy to slip up. He sure wouldn’t like some dumbass teenager working on the construction side to call him by his first name at work. Or at all, for that matter. He only played along, not offered him to call him anything else then Mr. Blake.   
"Making sure she's good enough for Emori?"  
"Sure. As I said: Emori is awesome."

What a shame the kid didn't seem to think that about himself. Bellamy hoped Murphys friends were at least thinking as good about him as he was about them. Bellamy clearly understood why Emori was off flirting and dancing with Raven, but he didn’t really get why the other kid left. By the name he was likely Joseph Mbeges son. He might be suspecting that Murphys Met-you-at-a-party-story was bullshit. But most people at the site didn’t really bother to remember his first name. He was either Mr. Blake or Guardsman Blake or whatever the fuck the people choosed to call him behind his back. 

"Raven is too", Bellamy said, deciding not to think of work right now. "She's super clever. She was always the best in school and she got a full ride at Caltech. But Raven never does what you expect her to do. She got her diploma twice as fast as it usually takes but instead of continuing her studies or taking the job freaking Google offered her, she opened up her own shop.”  
“So she’s a mechanic?”

“The best you’ll ever met”, Bellamy said proudly and it shouldn’t shock Murphy but it did. It sounded like Raven turned down chances every sane and upstanding person would take. Chances that a man like Bellamy would surely take, right? But Raven didn’t take them. Instead she did her own thing and Bellamy was proud. Murphy grinned. If Raven told that story, Emori would sure as hell be head over heels for her. 

“So why’s Emori awesome?” Bellamy asked. He sounded really interested and not at all up to finding out why Emori wouldn’t be good enough for Raven. She was good enough, definitly and Murphy got a bunch of great reasons for it. She wasn’t a fuck up only because she was friends with him.   
“Emori might not be booksmart”, he said. “But she can repair everything. Name it and she got it fixed. She taught herself everything, you know. Exept how to hotwire a car. That was Otans doing.”

“Sounds like just the girl Raven would be into. No wonder they are ... like that.” Bellamy grinned and motioned at Raven and Emori who started to give them  
quite a show, kissing right in the middle of the living room, only stopping to talk a million miles a minute, likely about some mechanical archivement. 

Murphy grinned, before checking the room for Mbege. He sat by some other boys, around a water pipe. Murphy hoped there was no weed in it. Mbege was no stranger to smoking some pot now or then, but Murphy would really like to avoid to crash here tonight. Looked like most people might by amount of weed and alcohol around. 

“You want another beer, Murphy?” Bellamy asked, motioning to his empty bottle. Murphy hadn’t really realized how the time went by talking to his boss. It really hadn’t been awful. Blake seemed like a nice guy. In fact he had been nothing but nice to him since they met when Murphy got hurt. And it wasn’t like he had to be nice. Sure, maybe he didn’t want him to sue the company for getting hurt on the site. People sued for less, Murphy knew, but by now Bellamy likely realized that he was way to dumb and needed his job to much to even think about suing a company like them. 

“Nah”, Murphy said, once not because he didn’t want to be held out. The beer was likely brought with drug money either way, so Murphy had no qualms about taking it. But: “I don’t really drink much.”  
“Okay, fine by me. I’m the designated driver tonight either way. So Coke?”   
“Yeah, sure.”

They made their way over to the kitchen, where Bellamy rummaged in the fridge. He grabbed two cans of coke and gave one over to Murphy, who opened the lid and took a sip.   
“Thanks”, he said, following his boss back to the couches they had sat on.   
“We were looking for you!” Raven said, plopping down gracelessy next to Bellamy. Emori was with her, looking down at all of them, stopping at him and scrunching her eyebrows. 

Murphy shot her a sorry glance. He felt sad for lying to her, but having her know that Blake was his boss would have been just strange. For all of them to be honest. He wasn’t sure if she’d have continued flirting with Raven or if she’d have leave him and Blake alone. Emori could be hella protective of him. It was sweet most of the time, endearing almost, because if Murphy was honest there was no one beside her and Mbege who cared so much about him. Or rather cared at all. He would tell her. Not just now. That would be even more embarassing. 

“We want ice cream”, Raven said and pointed to Bellamy. “And you are gonna drive us.”  
Bellamy looked over to Murphy, who sat across from them as if he had nothing to do with their conversation. He still had no clue why Murphys friend left him behind to talk to some other guys. Maybe it was because he smelled Murphys bullshit, maybe he wanted to give the two of them some privacy. Maybe he just wanted to go and smoke some water pipe.

„It‘s almost midnight, Raven“, he said to get out of it. Bellamy wouldn‘t leave Murphy alone here. If he played taxi driver for Raven and her new friend, he‘d make sure that Murphy also came along. If he wanted too, of course.   
„Has that ever stopped me from getting Josie‘s Special Sundaes?“ Bellamy sighed. Since they were teenagers they spent way to many nights eating Ice Cream in Russels Diner. 

„You up for Midnight-Ice-Cream, Murphy?“, he asked because there was no way getting out of driving there with Raven. She must really like this Emori-kid if she wanted to take her to Russel‘s. Bellamy could count the times they took someone besides Echo or Finn there on both of his hands. Murphy shrugged his shoulders. Looked like they were taking Murphy and Emori out for Midnight-Ice-Cream tonight. 

Emori ran over to Mbege and Otan to tell them about their plans. She wasn’t asking them to come, but promised to be back in an hour or so. The party was still going great and Mbege said he’d rather stay with the guys and their water pipe instead of tagging along for ice-cream. Murphy thought he was just pissed about his lie. Maybe even pissed that Murphy didn’t came to him with his tail between his legs, but instead remained seating with Bellamy, whom he might have met at a party or not. 

Mbege was as straight as they came so there was no jealousy but he sure cared about Murphy enough to not like being lied to. Murphy didn’t even really know why he lied. He kinda panicked. He didn’t expect Bellamy to be here of all places. They were from completely different worlds. 

Sure Bellamys friends would know who he was and where he worked, so it wasn’t that. Murphy hadn’t thought about Bellamys reputation on this side of town. And really he had no reputation to lose. His friends knew about what a fuck-up he was. They knew about his mom and that he didn’t really know how to read and write. Emori and Mbege knew that he seldom had some spare change to pay for food and that he worked at the construction site because his mom was not reliable. 

Maybe they even knew about the bills he ignored because he couldn’t pay them even if he knew what they said. Mbege had been sitting in the front yard last month when the bailiff came to Murphys house and left with his dads old wrist watch while his mom was throwing slippers at him. It was a madhouse. But Mbege never treated him differently. He sure didn’t deserved to be lied to about dumb shit like where he met Bellamy or who the guy really was. It’s not like Murphys little lie made any difference to the fact that he and Bellamy had nothing in common. 

Yet Murphy sat on the passengers seat of Bellamys big-ass expensive Range Rover. The car was great. It was chillier in here than anywhere Murphy had been for the past weeks of summer, still the cold air from the ventilation in front of him was not blasting in his face. The freaking radio was just a touch pad but the music that was playing from the speakers sounded awesome. Murphy liked the song, always had and he never heard it with a sound quality this good. 

Bellamy was humming along quietly, while Raven and Emori where whispering and giggling in the backseat. Both of them clearly happy about how the night played out until now. Murphy didn’t really know why he tagged along. This was not a freaking teenage double date thing, exept that it almost felt that way. Bad, bad thought. 

“You like the song?” Bellamy asked, stopping that kinda nice humming-thing he did. Murphy made a suprised sound in the back of his throat, it sounded almost like a faint “huh”.   
Bellamy started tapping his finger against the leather coated steering wheel, before motioning down to Murphy, who was unconciously tapping two of his own fingers against his thigh. 

“John loves this band!“  
“John, huh?“ Bellamy couldn‘t help himself. Of course he knew the kids first name was John but he seemed vehement to be called nothing but Murphy. Still his friend did the complete opposite.   
„Yes. John. But only I am allowed to call him that,“ Emori played coy, smirking at Raven in the backseat. What a little shit, Bellamy thought, almost fondly, as he watched her from the rear mirrow. 

„I‘m sure you won‘t be, once he brings his girlfriend over.“ Two could clearly play the game. But when Bellamy catched Murphy freezing out of the corner of his eye, he felt sorry. He really knew shit about Murphy and Emori. He didn‘t knew if she was an ex-girlfriend turned friend or if Murphy was unhappily in love with some other girl or whether he had just gone through a terrible breakup last week. 

But Emori just laughed, not unkindly, before she leaned between the seats and slightly over the middle console of Bellamys car. He just parked in front of Russels Diner and looked over his shoulder to catch her winking at them.   
„I‘m sure Johns boyfriend will be allowed to.“ 

Murphy was looking down to the foot rest. Emori grabbed his shoulder, luckily the good one, so she wasn‘t hurting him further, Bellamy thought with something akin to concern. It was strange how he grew fond of those kids in an instant. Exept, was it really? He remembered being six year old, as he bonded with Raven for life on the broken playground in their run down neighborhood. He was fiveteen when he realised he wasn‘t into girls but fit with Echo in a compleatly other, better way. With sixteen he took to Clarke like a moth to the flame and formed friendships with strangers a million miles a minute. 

In college Bellamy never had any trouble to find people to hang out with, partners for projects and the occasional hook-up. He connected to people fast but steady. Bellamy knew he was lucky. For O it had never been that way. She was popular, because well who wasn’t when you were the daughter of one of the richest guys in town, but there were only few people she really connected with. Arkward kids and Lincoln. Even if Bellamy liked to fool himself, Licoln was the only one she had ever been drawn to instantly. Bellamy had never seen her like that but he strangely found himself in the way she was hooked, plain and simple. Maybe for ever. 

Bellamy had never been in love before, not really. He wondered if he would fall hard and fast, just like he made his friends or if it would be slow, a soft connection, for once in his life. Fragile, Bellamy thought, like it was a word he frequently used. He didn‘t. Nothing about his relationships had ever been fragile. 

He watched as the others left the car, Raven and Emori giggling, while Murphy tagged along. Bellamy catched up with him and followed the girls into the diner. It was almost empty. To late or to early for most people, even for a 24/7 diner on the edge of downtown. Russel of course wasn‘t here 24/7 but he liked to do the night shifts when Josephine was in town to spent the days with his beloved daughter. 

„Hey kids,“ Russel greeted them, coming up to their table. His gaze lingered on Murphy and Emori, judging if he‘d seen them before. „What can I get you?“  
„Four of Josies Special Sundaes“, Raven ordered, definitly sure about it. Murphy never knew anyone who was so sure about ice cream after midnight, but he definitly wasn’t complaining even if he acummulated quite a sum he had to pay back to Mbege and her for food alone. Normally he brought groceries for a week for that kind of money spent for dinner and ice cream tonight.   
„Coming right up,” Russel said and vanished behind the counter to work on their sundaes. 

Bellamy looked over to Murphy, who sat across from him, toying absentmindly with a little package of sugar. He only stopped when Russel places four big ice cream desserts in red and blue colored glasses. They looked exactly like the last 1000 sundeas he’s had here over the past ten years or so. Soft vanilla swirl, covered in hot fudge, rainbrow sprinkles, whipped cream, pink marshmellows and a bright red maraschino cherry. 

“Whoa,” said Emori and pulled one of the sundaes right in front of her. She grabbed the long spoon on the side and dug in. “This is so good!”  
“See, i didn’t promise to much.” Raven grinned broadly, starting to munch on her own dessert.   
“Not at all!” 

Bellamy also took a cup and slid the last one over to Murphy.  
“Dig in,” he said, picking his cheery from the top. He always liked those much to sweet little preserved fruits. They reminded him of his grandma, moms mother, who always bake christmas cookies with a maraschino cherry in the middle. He loved those as a kid. Still did, whenever mom made them herself. 

Bellamy rarely cooked for himself. He still hadn’t found a place for himself around here so he took the offer of Kanes mother Vera and started living with her in her big house just a few streets over from his parents. There was always good food around and he never learnt to cook well enough to compete with that. He still saved grandmas maraschino cherry cookie recipe on his mobile phone. Maybe one day he would bake them by himself. 

“So, you promised a story behind these little monstrosities.” Emoris grin was bright and brought and Murphy rode on a happy wave seeing the sweet puppy love she and Raven were developing for each other. The sugar rush clearly did it’s own thing. Murphy might never had a sundae this big. 

“Russels daughter Josephine always hung around - she still does, hey, Russel, where’s Jo?”  
“Still out with Gabriel.”  
“A shame,” Ravel sighed. “Jo and Gabe are cool, you’d like them. But back to my story I guess: so Josie was a kid when Russel opened up here and whenever she was around she helped him behind the counter. Lot’s of dishes are made by her design. Russel, bring us some Jo-Juice, yeah?”

“Raven,” Bellamy sighed. Murphy just grinned. Her hadn’t taken her for a storyteller, but he kinda liked it. It totally gave him all the time in the world to munch on his dessert, without being part of the conversation. It almost wasn’t strange to sit here with his boss, his best friend and Raven who connected them for tonight. 

“There you go, Jo-Juice.” Russel put a pitcher and four glasses filled with crush ice over. Bellamy filled the glasses and gave them around.   
“It’s the virgin version,” Bellamy said, maybe for Murphys benefit, maybe not. Who knew if Bellamy even remembered that Murphy didn’t really drank all that much. 

Murphy tried the Jo-Juice and it was awesome. It tasted like a mix of all the best dark fruit juices and soda, maybe a bit of peppermint? He wasn’t sure but this was by far one of the best cocktails he ever had. Not that he could ever be a frequent guest he, being broke as shit, but if he ever had to choose a dinner for a date, this would certainly be his go to. He totally understood why Raven wanted to bring Emori here. 

Murphy watched both girls drink and laugh and talk over their sundaes. The mix of midnight ice cream and Ravens fetching, brilliant personality she definitly catched Emori. They might be a match made in heaven, extraordinary and smashingly terrific. 

Murphy thought it could be a good thing, Emori certainly deserved that, even if that might mean that there were more evening like this to come. Evening, where he had to sit across his boss, having no clue if the next word could get him fired. But Bellamy wouldn’t do that right? He could certainly differ between work and play. But if he could, and if Murphy was pretty sure about it, hoping Bellamy was really that decent guy he seemed to be, why was he so damn nervous whenever he looked his way? What a mess! 

X

When they get back some people had left the party, some where still drinking and smoking, mostly outside on the patio where the air was milder than it had been the whole day. Others lay in various positions on the couches and soft stools, sleeping off whatever they threw tonight. Mbege sat in the spot Murphy had been before, doodling on his smartphone but looking up, once they made it inside. 

Bellamy left to go looking for Echo and Emori stayed behind with Raven, while Murphy went up to his friend.   
“Hey,” he said tentativily. Mbege let his phone slip into the pocket of his jeans, watching him from the corner of his eyes.   
“You good, man?”  
“Sure,” Murphy answered. He looked over to Emori, who still had her hand on Ravens hip, laughing softly at her, while Raven played with one of the little gem charms hanging from Emoris bracelets. She seemed not yet comfortable to touch Raven with her badass hand, even hidden in it’s glove, but she was radiating happiness. 

“Looks like she had a good night,” Mbege commented. He grinned and nodded to the patio. Bellamy was outside, talking to Echo, who was still beautiful but definitly high as a kite. “Was yours okay too?”  
“Yeah, sure,” Murphy said again, not really knowing what Mbege wanted from him. His forehead was wrinkled as he observed Bellamy through the glass door. 

“You figured it out?” Murphy asked, unsure if Mbege really did.   
“That you haven’t met him at a party? Yeah, right away. But that he is who he is, only when you were gone for Ice-Cream.”   
Murphy huffed but otherwise stayed silent.   
“You know that he can’t force you to do anything, right?”   
“What?” Murphy sputtered. 

“Look, Murph. Dad told me that you spent some of last week in the guys office and if he tried anything you can tell me, man.”   
“It’s not at all like that,” Murphy tried to explain, ancious for Bellamy to come in, but he still stood outside talking to Echo.   
“Why did you lie then?”   
“Avoiding questions,” Murphy muttered and when his friend didn’t seem content with the answer he added: “Begs, he’s probably not even gay and if he was nothing would happen either way. We are from compleatly different worlds.” 

Mbege watched him with a serious expression. He definitly stayed sober. Murphy wasn’t sure if it was because of him or Emoris car keys in his pocket.   
“Yet you are both here tonight.” Mbege patted his own knees before standing upright. “Come on. Let’s get Emori, I’m beat. You can crash at mine tonight, if you want.” 

They went over to Emori, who still took her time to say goodnight to Raven. They really got it bad for each other. Murphy shared a grin with Mbege. From the corner of his eye he saw that Bellamy came inside again. Emori definitly saw too.   
“Goodnight, Bellamy. See ya,” she called over to him. He raised his hand from the other side of the room. 

Murphy raised his chin, his lips looped into a soft grin, as he raised his own hand. Despite all, it had been a good night. He knew that when he met Bellamy on Monday he would be Mr. Blake again. But for tonight it felt nice to just wave at him, all formalities put aside.


End file.
